Beneath the Stars
by starlightwalking
Summary: After the battle, Tauriel struggles to find a place in the world. With the War of the Ring on the horizon and her past haunting her footsteps, she must find a way to keep her hope even in these dark hours and find a home where she truly belongs.
1. Chapter 1

Hi everyone! This is my newest fic, centering on post-BotFA Tauriel. It will reference back to Tauriel's relationship to Kili throughout, but since he won't be making an appearance since he's, y'know, dead. This fic will (probably) be 25 chapters. This story will follow Tauriel from right after the Battle of the Five Armies through the War of the Ring. There will be canonical and supporting character death, but despite all the angst there will be a (mostly) happy ending. I'll follow movie canon for the most part (not for the funeral, though), but I'll include book canon whenever it doesn't contradict movie canon.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **ONE**

* * *

 _Night is now falling  
_ _So ends this day  
_ _The road is now calling  
_ _And I must away..._

* * *

They buried the heirs in the evening.

The sun set just as the final cover was laid over the stone tomb, concealing Thorin Oakenshield's face forever. He had been the last of the three Dwarves to die, the last of the three to be buried. King Under the Mountain he was, the king of Durin's dead.

Tauriel's face was pale and expressionless as the Dwarves all bowed to their deceased leader, even King Dáin. She said nothing, had said little since Kíli's death. She stood in the back of the crowd, watching. Alone.

The halfling had spoken to her some, treating her with kindness. He had been close to Oakenshield, and fond of Fíli and Kíli. His words were heartfelt, but they did little to ease her pain. He had left already; heading to his homeland with the wizard Gandalf.

A little to her left was King Bard, ruler of the Men of Esgaroth. He was just and wise, for man, but he felt little sorrow at this occasion—Oakenshield had been no friend of his.

Thranduil and the elves had returned to the Greenwood, promising to send periodic aid to Esgaroth, and to keep the peace with Erebor. Tauriel had not gone with him.

Though Thranduil had been sympathetic—as much as could be expected—he had refused to allow her to return to his realm. Tauriel missed her home, but she could not return. She would not have returned even if Thranduil had allowed her. Too many memories, too many bad feelings were in that place. And she could not face Legolas again, so soon.

For his part, Legolas had left almost immediately after the Battle of the Five Armies was won. North he journeyed, or so Thranduil said, to visit the Dúnedain. Tauriel was relieved she did not have to speak with him, though his loss hurt.

The Dwarves rose, the funeral adjourned. Now they left to feats and make merry, celebrating the lives of the dead.

Tauriel reached into her pocket, pulling out Kíli's promise stone. She walked forward, toward the graves. Oakenshield's sister-sons, Kíli and his brother Fíli, were buried on either side of him in matching tombs. Tauriel rested her hand on the left one—Kíli's final resting place.

"I am sorry, Kíli," she whispered, blinking back tears. She rested the promise stone beneath his name, engraved in the Dwarvish language on smooth, white stone. She stood there for a long while, alone. Then she tilted her head up to the sky, full of stars. Stars she had for so long yearned to see in full beauty, as she saw them now. But they brought her no joy.

"Look at the stars, Kíli," she murmured. "And the moon...it's so bright... Now that I no longer abide in the forest, perhaps I will see a fire moon some day, and think of you."

She picked up the stone. "I will have to give this to one of your kinsmen, Kíli," she sighed. "To take back to your mother. Do you understand?"

There was no answer. Tauriel did not expect one, but she still was hurt. Hurt by his absence, his loss.

She remembered him dying upon the blade of the orc. How he had mouthed that word, the Khuzdul word he had spoken to her on the shores of the Long Lake: _amrâlimê_. An "I love you" in his own tongue. She had not had the chance to say it back to him. She said it now, her tongue instinctively forming the phrase in Sindarin instead of the common speech.

" _Gi melin_ , Kíli," she whispered, tears rolling down her fair, pale face. "I love you..."

There were footsteps behind her, the heavy thump of a Dwarvish boots. Tauriel shoved Kíli's stone in her pocket, not wanting others to see it, and turned to face the approaching dwarf.

It was the bald one. She could not recall his name. After the battle, she had wandered among the dead and helped to clean up, meeting several Dwarves and speaking to many elves she had known from the Greenwood. Bard the Bowman, now the King of his Men, had offered to house her in the ruins of Dale, and she had stayed there for the nights preceding the funeral. Tauriel had spoken little to the Dwarves of Erebor and of the Iron Hills, but she knew they were at least somewhat aware of her romance with Kíli.

She nodded to the bald dwarf, who nodded back, his eyes pained.

"Elf," he said, his voice low and guttural, "I know you have reason to be here...but leave me alone in my grief for my King."

"I—I was just leaving," she stammered, backing away from the tombs. The bald dwarf nodded and coughed, looking beyond her as she exited the hall of the dead.

Tauriel walked through the halls of Erebor. The Dwarves of the Iron Hills had helped clean the place up some, but their feast was in the process of destroying all their hard work.

She slipped past the dining hall and into the treasure hoard of Smaug. She looked down at the mounds of gold and jewels. Thranduil and Bard had taken their share of the wealth, but most of it remained for the Dwarves of Erebor to keep.

Tauriel sat down, staring at the piles of gold. The mounds stretched forever, spilling into yawning caves and filling up great halls. The Dwarves lusted after it, but for Tauriel the acquisition of the treasure and the mountain held no solace. It was not worth Kíli's death.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" a wise old voice said from behind her.

Tauriel turned to see the old dwarf, Balin. He walked closer and sat down beside her, comically shorter than she was.

"It is no comfort to me," she murmured in response.

Balin nodded. "I feel your pain, Elf-maiden. I was Thorin's friend, his closest advisor. I helped raise Fíli and Kíli. Gold immeasurable holds not the price of life. But it is done now." He sighed. Tauriel stared into the halls of treasure, saying nothing.

"I know you grieve, Elf-maiden," Balin said, patting her on the arm. "But the mountain is no place for elves, even in light of recent events."

"I know this," she murmured. "I will leave. Tonight, if you and your king wish."

"You could have gone with Bilbo and Gandalf for some leagues," Balin commented.

"I could have," she sighed. "But I wished to stay for the funeral. And I did not think they would welcome me."

"They would have, more so than my kin," the old dwarf said.

Tauriel nodded. She took a deep breath, then took Kíli's promise stone from her pocket. "Kíli gave me this, before he died."

Balin took the stone and examined it. "A promise," he murmured, his eyes clouded with memory. "One broken."

"It was to his mother, and to me, in the end," she explained. "When you bring your kin back to the mountain, give her this, please. It is not mine any longer."

Balin looked at the stone, then back up at Tauriel. He took her hand and gave it back to her. "Come with us, elf-maiden, to Ered Luin. Dís their mother should hear the whole tale, from you and my brother Dwalin both."

Tauriel clutched the stone and stared at him. "I could not."

"I will speak for you," he said, nodding his head and looking her in the eyes. "I hold respect even in the mind of Dáin. It will be only I and Dwalin, and perhaps one other."

Tauriel closed her eyes. Kíli would want his mother to know of his fate. She could ensure that Dís received the promise stone, at the very least.

"If you will speak for me, I will go," she answered Balin. "I do not have any other place waiting for me."

He clapped her on the knee. "Good! But first, what is your name, Elf-maiden? I am afraid I have forgotten it."

"I am Tauriel," she told him.

"Well, Tauriel," Balin said, "I will meet you tomorrow outside Dale. Gather your belongings; we leave at dawn."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **TWO**

* * *

Early the next morning, Tauriel roused herself and prepared herself for her coming journey. She had rested in the ruins of Dale, alone, curled up on a spare blanket given to her by King Bard. The people of Esgaroth were camped elsewhere in the city. Tauriel's resting spot faced south, away from Ravenhill. She couldn't bear to look at that place so soon after...

She blinked, trying to focus on other things. What little possessions she had—her sword, daggers, clothes, and a new bow, another gift from King Bard, who had pitied her situation—were packed into a bag in a matter of minutes or else sheathed and ready to be carried with her. In her pocket was a lump where Kíli's promise stone hid.

She walked down to the edge of the city, her face calm and composed. She stopped, staring out at the Lonely Mountain. Three small figures made their way across the plain between Erebor and Dale, their steps steady and slow. Dwarves.

Tauriel leaped down and strode over to meet them. One was Balin, the old dwarf. The other two she vaguely recognized from their imprisonment in Thranduil's halls, but she did not know their names. One had a thick red beard, the other a black one and a bald head. Neither looked very happy to see her.

"Friend," Balin greeted her as the dwarves approached. She nodded in return. The red-bearded one snorted, and the bald one scowled. Clearly, they did not share Balin's sentiment.

"I am Tauriel," she introduced herself to the other Dwarves. "Balin invited me to journey with you to the Blue Mountains."

"He did not explain well why," Red-beard growled. "Your foolish pining after Kíli is no excuse to bring an elf along—"

"She was there when he died," Balin said, his voice mild yet stern. "Dís deserves to hear the whole story."

Tauriel took the stone out from her pocket and showed it to Red-beard and Bald-head. "Kíli gave this to me on the shores of the Long Lake. It was his mother's." She fought to repress herself from adding an irritated jibe. She did not like the look Red-beard was giving her.

Bald-head took the stone from her, turning it over in his hand. He grunted, then gave it back to her without comment.

"Must she come with us, Balin?" Red-beard asked the old dwarf, his mouth twisted in disgust. "Could we not take the stone and the story and go alone ourselves?"

"Let her come, Glóin," Bald-head interrupted. "She grieves as we do, and could doubtless tell the tale better than I. She's the only one who witnessed Kíli's death."

Balin nodded sternly to Red-beard, adding his agreement. Red-beard gritted his teeth, but told Tauriel stiffly, "Very well." After a moment's pause, he added, "I am Glóin, son of Gróin."

"And I am Dwalin, son of Fundin," Bald-head said. "Balin is my brother."

Tauriel inclined her head slightly. "I am pleased to meet you," she answered, her voice empty and monotone.

"Let us be off!" Balin declared. "It is a long way to Ered Luin, though we may take quieter roads this journey."

"Thank Mahal for that," Glóin grunted, beginning to walk after Balin. Tauriel waited until each of them had passed her before taking a deep breath and beginning her long journey with a single step.

* * *

The small group hiked over the hills and around the Long Lake that day, before setting up camp on the shores of the lake. Tauriel laid her blanket several feet away from the fire where the dwarves ate noisily and mumbled to each other in Khuzdul. She nibbled on some lembas bread, not hungry, then rested for a short while.

When she roused, it was still dark. The fire burnt low, the dwarves all asleep. It was unwise for them to not leave a watch, she thought with a frown. Then again, she reflected, after the battle, not many dangers had survived.

Tauriel sat up and crawled nearer to the flames. She poked at the glowing embers with a twig, trying to stoke it up a little. Beside her, Glóin snored in his sleep, the noise echoing throughout their camp. She rolled her eyes, her lips twitching in an infant smile.

She wondered if Kíli had snored.

The thought dampened her spirits immediately, and she decided to take a walk. Tauriel wandered the shores, looking out on the empty husk of the Lake-town, charred and floating in the icy water.

Somewhere in that lake lay a dragon's corpse, cold and empty and fireless. How strange that something so great and bright and evil could be snuffed out by a single arrow, shot by a mere man. How strange that such ruin and death could be brought upon the inhabitants of this land round about in a few days only.

Tauriel remembered facing this lake, watching a boat disappear on the horizon, drawing ever closer to the mountain. Her soul was filled with grief as she recalled the chill wind, the gray morning, the warm touch of Kíli's hands, the smoothness of the stone he pressed into her palms...

Unbidden, she pulled it out of her pocket. She would never forget, never truly recover. This sorrow pierced her very heart, and a wound like that could never fully heal.

She had heard of elves, upon losing their loved ones, wasting away in their grief and perishing. She would not allow that to happen to her. She would not let her sorrow consume her. But still it _hurt_ , knowing she could never go back to her troubled ignorance in Thranduil's halls, nor return to the wakening of Kíli's arrival in her life, or even hope for a future of them together. There was only darkness ahead of her, darkness and obscurity.

Tauriel did not know what lay ahead of her, what she would do after the journey to Ered Luin, but she knew that she would not give into her grief. She would fight, find a purpose again...or at the very least find a rest. Yes, rest was good. Rest...and peace.

She lowered her head, allowing the light, cool breeze to play with her hair. She smelled the clean air blown off the lake and heard the faint snores of the dwarves behind her.

Tauriel rubbed the stone with her thumb, feeling the engraved ruins. It would not be hers for much longer—it belonged to Kíli's mother. She would have to remember it well for all the centuries ahead of her.

With a sigh, she turned around and walked back to the fire. She would keep watch over her new companions as the night died and the day was reborn, as it was clear they could not themselves.

* * *

The next morning, the four travelers set out once more. While Dwalin and Balin were for the most part somber, still caught up in grief for their fallen friends, Glóin sang to break the silence, merry and confident.

"I cannot wait to see Nigríd again!" he exclaimed to the other two dwarves. "I can see the Misty Mountains on the horizon, we have traveled far in only two days!"

"It has hardly been one," Tauriel corrected him. "And we must circumnavigate all of the Greenwood before we reach the mountains."

"I do hope we will not have to go through that accursed forest once more," Dwalin said in disgust. "Even Glóin would be hesitant to do so, however much he misses his wife!"

"The path is too dangerous, and we have time now," Balin said. "We will go around. And I would not wish to bring the Elvenking's wrath upon us again."

Glóin chuckled, smirking. "His son in particular was very rude to me upon our capture—part of me wishes to travel the forest just in order to give him some rudeness of my own!"

"He is not there any longer," Tauriel said quietly from the back of the group. "He travels north now. And I could not go back to Thranduil's halls even if I wished to. I am no longer welcome there."

"All the more reason to go through," Glóin muttered. Tauriel gritted her teeth, but said nothing. Doubtless the red-bearded dwarf was only trying to get a reaction out of her with all his jibing. She would not lower herself to satisfy him.

They trekked along the river for the rest of the day. Balin stopped at dusk. Turning round to face his companions, he said, "I am an old dwarf, and my feet are tired. Let us stop for tonight."

"How often you must rest," Tauriel remarked. "We stopped at midday as well. I could walk for hours more."

"You must forgive us for our needs," Balin said, his words clipped in irritation. "It will be like this for our entire journey."

"How long ought it to take, Balin?" Glóin asked. "I am anxious to see Nigríd and Gimli again."

"The journey to Erebor took us months," Balin replied. "We are taking the longer route, to avoid danger, so I imagine we will not be in Ered Luin until midsummer at the earliest."

Glóin scowled. Dwalin bumped shoulders with him sympathetically.

As the dwarves talked amongst themselves, Tauriel stood and stretched her arms, saying, "I will watch over you tired dwarves. The forest is not far off, and there are still evil things in there, even greater foes than the spiders, which thirteen dwarves and a Halfling could not handle until the elves arrived."

Glóin grumbled under his breath, but Tauriel paid him no mind. While Dwalin, at least, seemed to have accepted her presence on their journey, Tauriel doubted the red-bearded dwarf would ever grow to do the same. He was nothing like Kíli—it was strange to think the two were related in any way, whether in blood or in race.

"Very well," Balin agreed. "I will take my turn at midnight—"

"There is no need," she said briskly. "I rested last night and the night before. I am not tired."

"At the very least, eat with us," the kindly dwarf insisted.

"I am not hungry," she said, politely refusing. "Do not make effort to include me. I am happy to be alone."

"Elf-maiden—" he protested.

"You make call me Tauriel, if you wish to make a gesture of kindness," she said. "Now, build your foolish fire. I will watch over and ward off whatever it attracts. Goodnight!"

She stood and walked off a ways, surveying the area. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, just a heads up, I'm changing my username to starlightwalking to match my tumblr. If you use email alerts or want to find me or something, I'll be on here as starlightwalking from now on!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **THREE**

* * *

Many months passed while Tauriel traveled with the small company of dwarves. She never quite felt at home among them, but she trusted them not to turn on her.

Balin remained polite and kind, though he was still a dwarf at heart and rude on occasion. Dwalin accepted her as a comrade, but made no attempt to befriend her. For that she was relieved: she was still mourning Kíli, and felt she would be for the rest of her life, and she needed distance. Dwalin understood that. He had lost his king, a close friend, and he needed space just as she did, to grieve.

Only Glóin remained a thorn in her side. The red-bearded dwarf mocked her at any given chance, much to her irritation. At first she ignored his rude remarks, but eventually it became too much to bear. She snapped, and began giving him retorts in return after each of his callous jibes.

The three dwarves and the elf traveled around the Misty Mountains and through Eriador with little trouble. Mostly, they camped on the side of the road, but occasionally they ran across some mannish civilizations where they could spend the night in an inn.

On one such occasion, Tauriel was hungry enough to eat with her companions in the main room of the inn. Normally, she did not like to call attention to herself in such places. She wore an elven cloak, covering her vibrant red hair with a hood. Her height alone would make her conspicuous, especially compared to that of the dwarves.

"So you decided to join us, elf?" Glóin jeered as she set her place across the table from them.

"I was hungry enough to lower myself to endure your presence," she said coolly.

Dwalin snorted into his food. She glared at him, not sure if he was amused by Glóin's look of frustration or disappointed in the feebleness of her comeback.

She daintily cut her food, watching in distaste as the dwarves devoured theirs using only their hands. Tauriel smirked, thinking of what the elves back home would think of their messy habits. That wasn't to say that the mess hall of the Guard had never gotten a bit rowdy, but at least they used forks and spoons.

"No need to be discourteous," Balin said wearily. "We're all friends here."

"So, Balin, what's this town called again?" Dwalin asked, his mouth full. Tauriel sighed, rolling her eyes and resisting the temptation to tell him to chew with his mouth closed.

"It's Bree," Balin said. "We're not at all far from the Shire, actually."

"Really?" Glóin said. "Ought we to stop and give Bilbo a visit?"

"If he's home yet," Dwalin added. "He and Gandalf took a different route."

"I'm sure he's back by now," Tauriel said. "They left before we did."

"Only by a few days," Glóin countered.

"If he is back, he'll be settling back into his old life," Balin said. "We shouldn't drop by and suddenly change things for him again. We'll visit at a later time."

Glóin shrugged. "All right."

They ate for a little while longer, before Dwalin asked another question. "How much longer to Ered Luin?"

"I'd say another month," Balin estimated, "since we're going around the Shire and not through it."

"I will be leaving your company after I return the stone to Lady Dís," Tauriel informed them quietly.

"Can't stand to stay with us dwarves any longer?" Glóin blustered.

She shook her head. "No. The dwarves can't stand to stay with me any longer."

"Tauriel, friend, that's not true—" Balin lied virtuously.

Tauriel cut him off with a forced laugh. "It was very kind of you to invite me to come along, and I am grateful you did. But even after months of travel with you slow folk, I do not feel welcome, though perhaps this is my fault and not yours, kind Master Balin."

"Balin, did you say?" a gruff voice said from behind them. The company turned to see a tall man with an angry looking scowl leering over them. Tauriel frowned at him and his three lumbering cronies.

"Look at this!" the man jeered. "Three dwarves, and—bless my bunions, you're no dwarf, nor a man, either. I haven't seen an elf in a long, long time, and never in these parts. How are you traveling with this ugly lot and not tearing each other apart?"

Tauriel looked at him coolly. "What I do in this place with my companions is my business, not yours, countryman."

"We-e-ell!" the man said, leaning back a little. "A _female_ elf. And is this your escort, m'lady? Needed some knives to watch your pretty back?"

Tauriel, highly offended by the implication that she could not take care of herself, swiftly drew an arrow out of her quiver and shoved it in his face. "This arrow and its friends are not for show, countryman. I can take care of myself."

"All right, all right," he grumbled, pushing the arrow away. Tauriel slowly lowered her weapons, glaring at the impetuous man.

"I am Balin," the old dwarf said, nodding to the man. "Have we met before, good sir?"

"Yes, we have," the tall man growled. Tauriel noted with some concern that he was fingering his knife hilt. "Good Master Balin, who cheated me in selling me a sick pony!"

The old dwarf looked at him quizzically. "I'm afraid I don't recall the occasion. Perhaps if you gave me your name, it would jog my memory."

"Brekk," the man sneered. "In Ered Luin, near two years ago."

Balin frowned, tapping his nose as he thought. One of Brekk's cronies pulled out his knife, casually cleaning dirt out of his fingernails. Tension hung in the air as everyone waited for Balin to answer. Tauriel subtly drew some knives of her own, her eyes on Brekk's companions. She didn't think this meeting would end well.

"You know, that does ring a bell," Balin admitted. Beside him, Tauriel could see Dwalin and Glóin preparing for a fight in a more obvious fashion. "If the pony was sick, Master Brekk, it was not my fault. I took good care of her. If she fell ill after the sale, I'm afraid it was your doing, Master Brekk."

Brekk's pasty skin flushed red in rage. He screeched out, "Liar! Cheat!" Apparently he had reached the end of his patience, for he drew his knife in a flash and threw it at Balin.

The old dwarf, expecting it, ducked, and the knife went flying over his head and into the wall. Brekk's cronies jumped forward, attacking their small group alongside their leader.

Tauriel stood up and quickly disarmed the larger of the two bulky men, before hitting him on the head with the hilt of her dagger. She was careful not to kill him. These were not orcs, but men—ugly, dishonest men who meant no good, but they were the children of Ilúvatar nonetheless. He fell unconscious the ground.

Dwalin and Balin had Brekk well in hand, leaving Glóin to deal with the ugly merchant's second cronie. Tauriel jumped over the table and on top of his opponent. The big man grunted in surprise as his knees gave out under the pressure of her body.

Glóin swore at her. "I was taking care of him!" he shouted, lifting his axe and hitting him on the head with its hilt.

Tauriel smirked, jumping off the man and throwing her knife into the throat of Brekk's third cronie, who had been about to drive a sword into the red-bearded dwarf's head. She regretted having to kill him, but when it came down to his life or Gloin's, the choice was easy, even though Glóin continued to be a thorn in her side.

"But not the other one," she pointed out.

He scowled, watching as his would-be killer's sword dropped to the ground and the man himself fell backwards, dead.

Tauriel looked around. The bar was wide-eyed and fearful of the fighters, its inhabitants pressed up against the walls in order to avoid the brawl. Dwalin and Balin had cut off Brekk's hand and tied him up while he wailed in pain and protest. The proprietor of the inn, the Prancing Pony, shook in his boots.

Tauriel walked up to him. "I'm sorry this happened," she told him, her mind still buzzing in the aftermath of the battle. "I would suggest that the local authorities clean up this mess and take these men into custody. They attacked us first, so you'll find any consequences of their actions are not our fault. We're sorry. We will be leaving now."

The innkeeper nodded fearfully. Tauriel gathered up her possessions and watched as her companions did the same, albeit begrudgingly. She, too, would rather have spent the night in the inn, but she didn't feel quite safe there anymore.

After they left Bree's walls, Balin stopped in the road and turned around, looking a bit cross.

"Tauriel, have you forgotten that I am the leader of this company?" he asked her, sounding annoyed. "I agree with your actions, but it should have been me who spoke with the innkeeper, not you!"

She shrugged. "You were busy with that orc-spawn Brekk."

Balin shook his head. "Tauriel—"

"Oh, leave her be," Glóin burst out. Surprised, Tauriel looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"She's just trying to keep us alive," he continued. "It was the right thing to do."

"Why so fond of our elfmaid all of a sudden, Glóin?" Dwalin asked. Tauriel was thinking along the same lines. Why defend her now when he had been so critical of her before?

"She saved my life back there," he said simply. "I'm expressing my gratitude."

"You're welcome," Tauriel said, smiling to him. "Will this attitude of kindness continue, or shall we go back to being nasty to each other?"

Glóin sighed, a bit ruefully. "Very well, Captain Tauriel. I guess you're not that bad after all. We shall be courteous to each other."

"Good, Master Glóin," she said, nodding. "You aren't that bad, either. I suppose." She smirked at his bemused eye-roll, then looked back to Balin. "Lord Balin, I am sorry for overstepping my bounds, but action had to be taken. I will wait for you, next time."

Balin nodded. "Good." He sighed and looked around the wood, his mind moving over to other matters. "I guess here is as good a place to stop for the night as any. Let's set up camp."


	4. Chapter 4

:)

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **FOUR**

* * *

Ered Luin was not much different from the Misty Mountains in size, though there were much less orcs and other dangers, and many more dwarves. The settlement Tauriel and her companions were headed to was the one the dwarves of Erebor had found a home in. The place was in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, a neat little village in a valley.

Before Balin led the four of them through the city's gates, Tauriel stopped. She was hesitant to enter the settlement, worried that she would be met with violence. She was an elf, after all, and a deadly enemy to the dwarves.

"Perhaps it is best I wait outside the gate," she said uneasily. "I doubt elves will be welcomed here."

"You are with us," Balin said. "Dís is in the city. Speaking with her was the reason you came, after all."

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Tauriel said.

"We will make sure no one harms you, my lady," Dwalin said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She sighed. "I'm not afraid of battle," she snapped, "but I'd rather avoid a commotion if possible."

"You'll be fine, Captain," Glóin said, slapping her heartily on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. Tauriel stepped away from him, but flashed him a quick glance of recognition.

"Fine," she conceded. "I will go with you." She took a step forward and the company walked toward the gate.

Tauriel lagged behind her companions, doing her best to look inconspicuous. Among dwarves, though, even covering her hair was useless. She was just too tall.

When they got to the gate, the gatekeeper gawked up at her, completely ignoring his fellow dwarves.

"What's an elf doing in these parts?" he asked gruffly.

"That's my business, good sir, and not yours," she replied cordially.

He drew himself up, puffing his chest up importantly, though he was still laughably small. "As the gatekeeper, I'm afraid it _is_ my business."

"She's with us, Togrod," Balin said tiredly. "May we go in or not?"

The dwarf blinked and turned to Balin. "B-Balin? You're back—in one piece?"

"Yes," the old dwarf answered. "We've come to bring our people back to Erebor."

Togrod ran out from behind his gate and embraced a surprised Balin, openly weeping.

"The dragon is dead?" he asked through his tears. "Our home is regained?"

"Yes, Togrod," Balin said, patting the over-friendly gatekeeper on the back. He rolled his eyes and pursed his lips. Tauriel covered her mouth with a hand to hide her smile.

Togrod drew back, wiping his eyes. "We must tell all the Longbeards! It is time to go home!" He looked around, beaming, then he looked back at Tauriel, a puzzled expression clouding his face. "Balin, Glóin, and Dwalin are all here...but where are the rest who set out for Erebor? Where is Thorin?"

Balin bowed his head and said gravely, "Thorin is dead."

Togrod gasped. "No!"

"Yes," Balin said, his shoulders drooping. "And so are his nephews, Fíli and Kíli."

"Not the boys!" the gatekeeper exclaimed. "They were so young! Their poor mother...she had lost all her family now."

"That is why I am here," Tauriel murmured. "To deliver the tale of their noble fall to their mother."

Togrod glared up at her. " _Balin_..."

Tauriel gritted her teeth, annoyed that this insolent dwarf wouldn't take her word as good. She looked at Balin, crossing her arms. Let him talk their way out of this one.

"She saw Kíli fall," Balin explained. "She wished to relay the information to poor Dís."

Togrod looked up at her warily, asking, "But aren't elves our enemies?" He was really grasping at straws now, Tauriel thought.

"Not anymore," Glóin interrupted. "Come on, Togrod, let her in."

He shrugged, relenting at last. "All right. But you might want to take the quieter streets, unless you want to explain why she's here to everyone you run across."

"Thanks, Togrod," Dwalin said.

"Yes, thank you," Balin added. He turned to his companions. "Let's go in."

* * *

It took a while for Balin to lead them quietly home, but thanks to an angry-looking Dwalin and a glowering Glóin, nobody bothered Tauriel.

"So...how do you know the gatekeeper?" she asked as they walked.

"He was very enthusiastic when it came to planning the quest," Dwalin explained, "but when it came down to the actual danger and excitement...he got cold feet."

Glóin snorted. "Coward."

"Still a nice fellow," Balin said mildly. "He let us in without much commotion."

"Yes," Tauriel agreed.

By now, the empty road they were walking on opened into a wider street. Glóin let out an excited exclamation and burst into a sprint.

"Where's he going?" Tauriel asked, confused.

"That's his house," Balin said, pointing to a dwelling up the street. "He's excited to be home."

The other three approached at a slower pace. As they neared, Tauriel watched as the door to Glóin's house opened. Another dwarf, presumably his wife, let out a shout of joy and embraced him. Tauriel felt a pang in her heart as she realized her loss of Kíli again. She would never embrace him, never kiss him, never—

She broke off that line of thought, her hand instinctively traveling to the rune stone in her pocket. This would be the last time she held it, for today would be the day she relinquished it to Dís, to whom it rightfully belonged.

"I'm glad he's happy and reunited with his family," Tauriel remarked, "but I came here for a reason. Where does Dís live?"

Dwalin nodded and took a deep breath. "Yes." His voice was heavy with unspoken sorrow and regret. "Of course. Follow me, Tauriel."

Balin lagged behind, stopping to talk to Glóin, his wife, and his son. Dwalin led her to the next house over.

"She and the boys lived here," he said. "Thorin—" His voice cracked a little with repressed grief. "Thorin...Thorin lived across the street, in that house." He pointed to the house in question, a dark and lonely home, so empty and never to be filled now that its owner was dead.

"Dwalin...you know Dís," Tauriel said softly. "I've never even met her. How can I comfort her? I mean—"

"I'll comfort her," Dwalin said. "You can just tell her the story of how Kíli died. I'll tell her of Fíli and Th..." He stopped, blinking heavily to keep tears from falling. Tauriel touched his shoulder gently, waiting for him to continue. She understood his grief for Thorin; it was similar to the grief she held for Kíli.

He cleared his throat and nodded. The moment passed, and she put her hand back by her side.

"Anyway," he said gruffly, "well, I doubt she will like you, after all that happened, but...try your best."

Tauriel nodded. "Well. Let's get this over with."

Dwalin lifted his fist to the door and knocked. Tauriel hung back, feeling nervous and uncomfortable now that she was about to meet her fallen love's mother. She would not be surprised if Dís hated her for not saving her son. In her place, Tauriel would hate her, too. Part of her already did.

A few moments later, the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a female dwarf. She had a long beard, braided and elaborately beaded. Her hair was dark like Kíli's, though her eyes were lighter, and her skin darker. She had a large nose, but smaller ears, and she wore a long dress of dark blue-green.

"Dwalin?" she said in surprise, lifting her bushy eyebrows. "You're back?"

"Yes, Dís," he said. "Balin, Glóin, and I have come to bring our people back to the Lonely Mountain."

Dís broke into a smile. Holding her arms out wide, she stepped forward and embraced Dwalin. He stood stiffly, not hugging her in return.

Dís stepped back, looking at Tauriel curiously. "What are you doing here, elf?" Her tone was not accusing, but merely intrigued. Tauriel found herself relaxing a bit.

"Dís..." Dwalin began. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering strength. "We have...news. May we come in?"

Dís glanced up to Tauriel. "First, tell me your name, elf."

Tauriel bowed her head to the lady in a polite greeting. "I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, my lady."

"And what is an elf of Mirkwood doing in a dwarf city?" Dís asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Dís...inside, please," Dwalin murmured, laying a hand on her arm.

"Very well," the lady said stiffly. "Come in, Dwalin; and Tauriel, too. Watch your head. This house was not built for elves."

Tauriel walked in behind Dwalin, closing the door behind her. She took off her shoes when he did, staying quiet as Dís led them to her front room.

"Sit," she invited them. They sat down, Tauriel still stooped due to the low ceiling.

"Now, why is she here, Dwalin? Why couldn't you tell me outside?" Dís demanded.

Dwalin looked down. Without meeting her eyes, he burst out, "Dís...Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli are dead."

All the color drained from the lady's face. Her eyes widened. "No," she whispered in denial. "No!"

"Yes, my lady," Tauriel said, her grief renewed. "I'm afraid it's true." Fresh tears leaked from her eyes. She clutched the promise stone in her hand, not wanting to give it up.

"How did it happen?" Dís whispered, staring off into the distance.

"We had trekked all the way to Erebor, and a man of Lake-town killed Smaug after we flushed him out, but then...the dragonsickness overcame Thorin," Dwalin rasped. "It caused him to do...terrible things. There was a war, between dwarves, elves, and men—only then orcs attacked us. Azog was still alive, he went after the line of Durin, and—" He broke off, his voice cracking. "We couldn't save them. Fíli was caught alone, and...Azog slew him. He fought bravely, Dís, and he did everything he could to protect his brother."

Dís said nothing, only staring off into the distance with blank eyes and a pale face. Dwalin glanced at Tauriel, silently urging her to pick up the story from there.

"My lady, I...I saw Kíli fall," she said, her voice wobbling. "You see...the dwarves traveled through Mirkwood on the way to Erebor, and, well...while they were there, we...struck a liking to one another."

"Am I to believe that Thranduil just let them through?" Dís demanded. "After all he has done?"

"Well...no, actually," Tauriel admitted. "I was the Captain of the Guard. We captured them. They later escaped, but..."

"Dwalin, is this true?" Dís asked. "I find it hard to believe Kíli would fall for...an elf."

"It is true," Dwalin confirmed. "You should have seen him." A bittersweet smile crossed the bald dwarf's face. "The fool was in love."

Tauriel had rarely spoken with Dwalin; mostly she talked with Balin or argued with Glóin. And never had she spoken with the dwarves of Kíli. She loved him, that she knew, beyond everything, even the stars, but though he had acted like it, she had not known for sure if he loved her as such. If only she knew the meaning of that dwarvish word he had spoken on the lakeshore...the way he spoke, so lovingly, and pressed the stone into her hand, and the light in his eyes...it sent shivers down her spine. She had thought it was an "I love you" in his own way, but she had not been sure. She wished she had asked—she wished she had gone with him, had been more sure of herself...perhaps things would have been different.

But that chance was gone now, and here she was, facing his mother. She needed to explain how the poor lady had lost her son.

Dís looked at her, her eyes misty and the curve of her lips unreadable. "So, Tauriel. My son loved you."

"And I loved him," she whispered. "He...after Smaug died, he tried to convince me to come with him to Erebor, but...I couldn't. I had already disobeyed Thranduil by coming after him, to save him from the poison."

"Poison? What poison?" Dís interjected.

"I'm sorry, I'm getting ahead of myself," Tauriel said, shaking her head. "In Mirkwood, he was shot by an orc's poisoned arrow. I followed him to heal him, against Thranduil's orders. I saved him in Laketown, while Smaug attacked, and we escaped."

"Then he asked you to come with him," Dís summarized.

"Yes," Tauriel said. "And then..." She pulled the runestone out of her pocket. "He gave me this. As a promise. Like he promised you."

She handed the stone to Dís. The dwarf lady took it tenderly, tracing the runes she herself had engraved.

"Do you know what it says in Khuzdul?" Dís whispered.

"No," Tauriel answered. Her heart ached; she did not want to know.

" _Return to me_." Dís clenched a fist around the stone. "He promised he would." There was no describing the depth of the pain in the aching voice which spoke those words. Tauriel closed her eyes, grieving along with the lady dwarf. He'd promised to return to Dís; he'd promised to return to her. He'd _promised_.

"During the battle," Dwalin said, interrupting, "he watched as Fíli died. Azog threw his body down, and...you should have seen Kíli. He was so angry. He loved his brother. Thorin—Thorin told him not to be rash, but he ran after Azog anyway, killing everything in sight."

 _My mother thinks I'm reckless._ Kíli's words echoed in Tauriel's mind.

 _Are you?_ she had asked.

 _Nah._

Tauriel closed her eyes to stop the tears. "I was fighting nearby," she said. "I...Bolg attacked me. Kíli ran to help, but..." She swallowed. "He...he was killed." She put her face in her hands. "My lady..."

"Call me Dís," the dwarf said gently. She scooted over to hold Tauriel as she wept.

"Dís...what does _amrâlimê_ mean?" She looked up, meeting Dís's eyes.

"In the common tongue, it means 'love of mine'," she said. "He...he said that to you?"

"Yes," Tauriel whispered.

Dís grabbed her hand and slid the promise stone back into it. "Keep this," she said.

"But, my lady—" Tauriel protested.

"I have much to remember my son by," Dís said. "You have only this. In the end it was a promise to you, not me. Keep it."

 _Keep it. As a promise._

Tauriel nodded. "Thank you, Lady Dís," she said, her voice wobbling. "I can never say how sorry I am I could not save him."

"It is not your fault," Dwalin said. "We all share in your grief."

Tauriel nodded, wiping a tear away from her eye. She didn't know what to say. She was supposed to be comforting Dís, not the other way around.

"How did Thorin...die?" Dís asked, turning to Dwalin.

He launched into that story, of which Tauriel could not add to. She ran her fingers over the engravings on the promise stone.

 _Love of mine. Return to me._ The words ran through her mind over and over again. She had lost so _much_ —she had lost her innocence, her happiness, her future. She had lost Kíli. Now she had to live for eternity without him, forever alone.

Tauriel felt a single tear drip down her face. "Kíli," she whispered. The stone in her hand echoed with an empty promise. _Return to me_. But he never would.


	5. Chapter 5

The other day I uploaded a oneshot where Tauriel meets Maglor while they were both wandering. It could concievably have happened in the same universe as this fic - if it did, it would probably have happened in the time covered in this chapter.

This chapter isn't incredibly eventful, but things start to pick up plot-wise next chapter.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **FIVE**

* * *

Dís and Dwalin talked for nearly another hour. Tauriel sat next to the dwarves quietly, making the occasional interjection. At last, Dwalin's loud, rumbling belly interrupted them. In true dwarvish fashion, they both laughed loudly.

"Why don't I fix us some dinner?" Dís said.

Dwalin smiled and patted his belly. "I wouldn't say no to that!"

"Dís, that's very kind, but...I really ought to go now," Tauriel said, standing up awkwardly.

"No, no!" Dís protested. "Please. I know you're not too comfortable here, but the least I can do to repay you for coming all this way is to offer you food and rest, at least for one night."

Tauriel sighed, but Dís was right. "Very well, my lady."

The food was nice, though Tauriel was not especially hungry. She didn't gather up the courage to ask Dís who the previous owner of the bed she slept in was.

The next morning she rose early. She gathered her few belongings and quietly opened the door to leave without any uncomfortable goodbyes.

To her surprise, she heard a voice behind her call out, "Tauriel!"

She turned. It was Dwalin, closely followed by Balin, who must have arrived sometime after she had retired the previous night.

"Yes?" she asked softly, not wanting to wake the still-sleeping Dís.

The dwarves stepped closer. "Thank you for accompanying us," Balin said.

Tauriel smiled. "Thank you for inviting me along, kind Balin."

"Thank you for telling your story to Dís," Dwalin added. "It helped her more than you know."

"It was only the right thing to do," she murmured. "But you are welcome, both of you." She nodded her head to them. "I am leaving now, to seek my fortune elsewhere. Good luck in rebuilding Erebor. And goodbye, as I doubt we will see each other again."

"Goodbye, Tauriel," Balin said, his wrinkled face full of sentiment.

"Goodbye, Captain," Dwalin said. "May your journey be peaceful."

"Tell Dís I thank her for the food and bed," Tauriel continued, "and say goodbye to Master Glóin for me. He wasn't too prickly by the end, after all."

The two dwarves chuckled, nodding their agreement. Then, this time really ready to leave, Tauriel stepped through the door and out into the gray, cloudy morning.

* * *

She left Ered Luin before most of the city was awake, meeting no trouble. She traveled rather aimlessly for a while, wandering around the Shire and avoiding Bree. Now that she was alone, she traveled substantially faster.

By the time the Misty Mountains were in view, Tauriel had slowed in her travel. She did not know where to go. Eriador was large but a rather empty land since the fall of Arnor nearly an age ago. Occasionally she ran across a caravan of traveling merchants, but they provided scant company.

She ate little and slept less; even though elves needed these things less than mortals did, she was perhaps too sparing in nourishing her body. She felt empty, and not even the wide night sky brought her any more wonder. She wandered under gray clouds and beneath uncaring skies. Every path felt lonely yet familiar, and none of them seemed to lead home.

It would help if she knew where home _was_. Long ago, it seemed, though really it was very recently, she had called the Greenwood home, but it was no place for her now. Thranduil had all but banished her from Mirkwood, and she could not return. She had no place to go.

From time to time, her hands would turn the promise stone over and over and over again, tracing the runes Dís had translated for her: _Return to me._ She rubbed the cold stone with her thumb, as if that could somehow make Kíli come back to her. She had given too much of herself to him, too much he had taken with him to the Halls of Mandos. Home was where the heart was, so the wise said, but home was buried in a tomb in a faraway mountain she could not return to.

Sometimes, Tauriel would find herself staring east, toward the Lonely Mountain, but she knew she dared not go there. It was not a place she could be happy, and the dwarves would not welcome her. Other times, heart-wrenching grief would overcome her and she would stare fitfully west, toward a land she had heard tell of only from her ancestors who had rejected it. She could not go there, nor did she really want to. Her spirit was too tied to Middle-earth, to its trees and valleys and mountains, to wish to leave while still so young.

But her soul _ached_ , full of the uncertainty of the future and the ever-fresh pain of Kíli's death. She did not fit. She had no place to go. Her home was not a place but a person, and that person was gone.

Sometimes, she considered traveling north to the Dúnedain, as Legolas had, but she did not know if he would welcome her. She had been friends with him for much of her life, but his father had complicated things between them. She hadn't _thought_ he had liked her romantically; certainly she didn't like _him_ that way, but...what if he _had_? What if seeing her with Kíli had been the reason he had left without even a goodbye. Perhaps he didn't want to see her. Perhaps she didn't want to see him.

Eventually, Tauriel traveled south, following the Misty Mountains down to the Gap of Rohan. She abode there for several months, occasionally visiting the wild-spirited horse people when she grew lonely. Mostly, she kept to herself.

One day, she purchased a map from a man of Rohan, desiring to know where she was. She noticed she was not very far from Lothlórien, where dwelt the heart of elvendom on earth, and two of the wisest elves not yet departed. She decided to go there, at least to see some of her own kind again.

Most of the elves there were Silvan, her kin, but their leaders were Galadriel, a Noldo with Vanyar blood, and Celeborn, her Sinda husband. She had heard rumor of them in Mirkwood, though only Thranduil had ever met them. She knew they were wise beyond measure, Galadriel especially. Perhaps they could aid her in her search for peace and lend her their wisdom in where her future lay.


	6. Chapter 6

thank you for reviewing!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **SIX**

* * *

Tauriel reached Lothlórien in mid summer. She came to the borders of the golden forest and camped there for the night, unsure of the welcome she would receive when she tried to enter. Most of the elves there were Silvan, like her. Perhaps they would show some kinship to her. Or perhaps not.

The morning rose, and she entered the wood. She walked quietly, keeping her senses alert. She did not wish to be surprised by an enemy.

She had not walked long when she heard light footsteps approaching her. She drew an arrow to her bow and pointed her weapon at the sound warily. It was likely an elf, but she did not wish to risk the chance of being caught by an enemy unawares.

Out of the forest appeared three elves, their bows drawn as well. One was blond, and taller than the rest; he led the group, seemingly in charge. The others both had soft brown hair, though they were all similar in features.

"Who are you, and why have you come to our lands?" the blond one asked her roughly in the common tongue. He must be on a border patrol. Perhaps he was Captain of the Guard, as she had been. None of them lowered their weapons.

Cautiously, Tauriel dropped her weapons at her feet, staring the blond elf in the eyes. He glanced at the the elf on his left, but made no move to pick up her weapons.

"I am Tauriel," she said, responding to him in Sindarin, which he was sure to speak. "I come to seek...a home, at least for a little while. I mean no threat to you or your people."

Cautiously, the blond elf lowered his bow. The other two kept theirs pointing straight at her.

"Where do you hail from, Tauriel?" he asked, switching over to Sindarin.

She paused. The Woodland Realm would be the obvious answer, but it felt like an eternity ago since she had last seen her homeland. "I was born in the Greenwood, but I have been traveling of late."

The blond elf, deciding she was not a threat, put away his weapons. So did the other two. Tauriel leaned down to retrieve hers and put them away as well.

"I am Haldir," he introduced himself. "These are my brothers, Rúmil and Orophin."

Rúmil and Orophin murmured their greetings. Tauriel nodded to them.

"We patrol these borders," Haldir explained. "Lothlórien has not seen bloodshed in many years, but we remain ever watchful."

"That is wise," Tauriel said. "In the Greenwood, we were not so fortunate. Orcs, spiders, and other monsters were commonplace. As Captain of the King's Guard, I saw my fair share of battle there."

Haldir's eyebrows raised in interest. "Captain of the King's Guard?"

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "Though...not any longer. Not since the Battle of the Five Armies."

"I see you have quite a story," Haldir said. "Come. My brothers and I will bring you to our halls, where you may find food and rest."

"Forgive me if I keep some of my tale to myself," she said, following them. "It is painful to recall." She fingered the promise stone in her pocket.

"Of course," Haldir agreed.

They walked for a short while. Tauriel commented on her surroundings, and Haldir began to explain the ways of his people and the secrets of the forest, with occasional interjections from Rúmil and Orophin.

"Your customs are different than ours," Tauriel remarked, "for all we are both Silvan."

"Yes," Haldir agreed. "Your conditions are different. You have had a great malice in your forest, and must deal with it accordingly. We in Lothlórien have, for the most part, used our swords only in practice."

Tauriel nodded. Rúmil stopped walking, and so did his brothers.

"We are here," Haldir announced.

At first, Tauriel didn't see where "here" was. Then she noticed the three brothers staring up. She followed their gaze and gasped softly.

Now she saw. Staircases spiraled around huge tree trunks, leading up to houses in the boughs and branches. Elves went about their business, and now that she was paying attention, she could hear them and feel their presence.

Orophin looked at his brothers. "I am hungry. I'll see you all later." He nodded to Tauriel and walked away.

Rúmil unsheathed his belt dagger and examined it critically. "I think I'll sharpen my weapons. Goodbye, Haldir."

"Goodbye, Rúmil," Haldir said. He glanced at Tauriel. "Our patrol is over," he explained. "Now. I can take you to a place where you can spend the night."

"Do I not need to ask your leaders if I may stay?" Tauriel asked. In the Woodland Realm—well, in Thranduil's halls, at least—the Elvenking would have required it.

Haldir shook his head. "You are our kin. If you were one of the race of men, perhaps. But Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn need not be bothered. We trust you, though I do admit that we do not receive outsiders into our lands often."

Tauriel inclined her head gratefully and said nothing. She was glad to be welcomed and trusted, but she had come here with the intent to gain wisdom and counsel from the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien. She did not intend to stay here forever.

Haldir led her to her own small house in the treetops. She dropped her few belongings there and allowed him to show her around. She found the armory, the soldiers' mess hall, and a clothing shop. She was relieved to discover a spring where she could bathe. Baths had been scarce in the wild.

After thanking him for his hospitality, Tauriel bade Haldir farewell and set to recuperating in civilization. First, she went to the clothing shop. Using the scant coinage she had, she bought a new outfit of brown forest colors. Next she took her new clothes to the spring.

She bathed there, then washed her old garments. Dressed in her new clothes, she returned to her house and hung the wet ones out to dry.

Next, Tauriel took her weapons and headed to the armory. After explaining her situation to the head armorer, he was happy to help her. She traded in the man-made bow Bard had given to her for one crafted by the Galadhrim, much higher in quality. She restocked her arrows, sharpened her daggers, and thanked the armorer for his assistance.

Now both clean and restocked, Tauriel found herself suddenly exhausted. She put her things away, laid down on the cot that had been provided for her, and decided to take a long rest.

* * *

Tauriel stayed in Lothlórien for a few months. She ate and trained with the soldiers, befriending some of them. She never told anyone exactly why she was there and not still residing in the Greenwood. The Lothlórien elves respected her privacy. She imagined they had their own ideas about her circumstances, though she doubted any were near the truth.

She took to wandering at night. She was not the only elf in the wood to do so. Many times she heard quiet murmurs or footsteps, but she was never disturbed. In daylight, she might seek out company, but at night she desired only to be alone with her thoughts.

A strange numbness had crept over her. It had been nearly a year since the few fateful days that had changed her life so irrevocably. She had burned with a fire and a passion then, speaking her mind and never second-guessing her instincts. Now, she was more subdued. She had seen the harsh realities of the world, and the grief and heartbreak that accompanied willful battles.

She remembered her own deep, heart-wrenching, soul-shattering sorrow after Kíli's death. She remembered her slow, painful recovery, alone in Dale with nothing to comfort her save for Thranduil's last words to her, _It was real_. She _knew_ that. The pain she felt was proof enough of that. She had been so bitter and angry at the world, at him, at herself. It was only at the funeral where she let that anger go, knowing it was not what Kíli would have wanted her to feel.

But some of her fire had passed with the anger. She was sadder, now, and more pensive. She spoke less, and not just for lack of companions to speak to. This troubled her, but not as much as it should, perhaps.

Traveling with the dwarves had given her a sense of purpose, an end goal. Reaching that goal had only reopened her painful wounds that had just begun to heal. Dís's fresh grief and quiet acceptance pained her. No one deserved to have lost as much as she had. Tauriel knew. She had suffered loss as well, though after a different fashion.

When she had gone her own way, she had begun to wander. She had hoped it would give her some new purpose, a new light. It did not. After months of aimless wandering, she had come to Lothlórien. But dwelling here, even among her kin, she still felt alone. These elves were not her people. She missed her friends in Mirkwood. She missed her forest. She missed her duty, her passion, her fire. But she could not return. Thranduil had never rescinded her banishment. She was not welcome in her home anymore.

Home. Did she even want a home? A literal, physical house—that she had, here in Lothlórien. It gave her no peace. It did not feel like it was hers.

Tauriel missed the stars. In the Greenwood, she had traveled beyond the forest to see them in all their splendor. But she did not do that now. She was too afraid of the memories they might bring her.

"Tauriel," said a soft voice behind her, startling her out of her deep thought. She whirled around, unsheathing her daggers instinctively.

She beheld before her an elf of impossible beauty. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes blue like a pond in sunlight. Her skin was fair and smooth, her smile soft. A power, or magic, seemed to emit from her—subtle, but strong. Though Tauriel had not before seen her in her stay in Lothlórien, there could be no doubt who this elf was: Galadriel, Lady of Light.

Tauriel resheathed her knives and bowed to her. "My lady, I am honored," she murmured. She had long wished for Galadriel's counsel—it was the reason she had come here in the first place—but now that she was face to face with her, she did not know what to say.

Galadriel walked toward her. "Tauriel, there is no need to bow."

She rose. "My lady, what brings you here?"

"You are troubled," she said quietly. "I have known you were here for a long time. I did not know why, but..now that I stand before you, I can see." She leaned forward and touched Tauriel's chin. Tauriel stiffened, uncomfortable with the level of close contact.

"You have suffered a great loss," Galadriel continued. "You have been changed by it. You are lost. You do not know where to go."

"Yes, my lady," she said, her voice trembling.

"Whom did you love?" Galadriel asked softly, releasing her.

"My love," she whispered, purposefully being vague. "He fell...he died in the Battle of the Five Armies."

Galadriel nodded. "And you mourn him still?"

"With all my heart." Tauriel's voice cracked. "I will never see him again—we had such little time together...I have wandered ever since. I do not know how to go on. I thought coming here, receiving counsel from you, my lady, being surrounded by my kin...I thought it would give me some solace."

"But it has not," Galadriel murmured. She looked Tauriel in the eye. Tauriel shivered slightly, awed by her beauty. "The past brings you no comfort, but it will do you no good to retreat into yourself and ignore all you have faced. Find an outlet for your pain. Do not let it consume you."

Tauriel nodded. She had found a hole in her life since the battle, but she had done nothing to fill it. She took out Kíli's promise stone and turned it over in her hands, mulling over her options.

"Thank you, my lady," Tauriel said, bowing to her again. "Your counsel has done me good, I hope. But..." She hesitated. "I do not wish to stay here. Lothlórien is not my home. I do not know where my home is, but it is not here."

"Go to Rivendell," Galadriel suggested. "You may find it not to be your home, either, but Elrond may have further guidance for you. He is caught between worlds as you are, Tauriel who has been touched by dwarven hands, and he, too, knows great loss because of it."

Tauriel stiffened. She had not told Galadriel that Kíli was a dwarf. Was it that obvious? Or was she that powerfully observant?

However she knew, she was right. Lord Elrond Peredhel, the Half-Elven, knew loss. If the stories that had reached the Greenwood were true, he was half man, and his brother had chosen to die among men. He could, perhaps, comfort her, being much older and wiser than she. And Rivendell was a kindly place, she knew. She would go.

"Thank you, Lady Galadriel," she said again.

"You are welcome, child," Galadriel said, smiling softly.

Tauriel looked down briefly to put away her promise stone. When she looked up, the Lady of Light was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

This chapter introduces an OC. I hope you like her, but uh, just keep in mind this is not a particularly happy story.  
Thanks for your reviews!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **SEVEN**

* * *

Tauriel left Lothlórien the next day and traveled north to Rivendell. She braved the mountains and met no trouble save the cold as she crossed them. She ate lembas leaf, a gift from the Galadhrim, and slept only when she needed to. She was alone, and though she felt still sad and lost, she felt better knowing at least that she had a destination in mind, however temporary it might be.

She reached the valley of Imladris in early autumn. The leaves had begun to turn, and their fiery reds and golds made her hair seem less outlandish and out of place. She walked about unhooded, no longer fearing the attention her hair might call to her.

She approached the borders of Rivendell cautiously but openly, wishing that a border patrol, if this place had one, would find her. After a few days of encountering nothing but trees and birds, she grew bolder.

Tauriel walked straight up to Rivendell's main entrance. It was not an entirely obvious place, she thought. The valley hid its secrets to protect them. But it was not very hard to locate. She walked through to the gates and was immediately met by a guard.

"My lady, what brings you here?" the guard asked her.

Tauriel noticed with some surprise that she had drawn no weapons. This was an awfully trusting place.

"I come to speak to Lord Elrond," she said. "Lady Galadriel directed me here from Lothlórien."

The guard raised her eyebrows in surprise. "I see! Very well, my lady. I will bring you to Lindir. He will be able to help you."

"Thank you," Tauriel said, nodding to her. She led her through Rivendell's paths up to a building where an elf sat writing, a frown of concentration on his face.

"Lindir," the guard called from the entryway.

The elf looked up. Seeing the guard and Tauriel, he set down his quill and rose, nodding to her.

"How may I help you?" he asked, looking at Tauriel.

Tauriel bowed to him. "My lord, I come from Lothlórien, seeking counsel from Lord Elrond. Lady Galadriel sent me." She was not usually one to drop names, but she wished to see Elrond as soon as possible. Galadriel's favor may influence the urgency of Lindir's message to him.

Lindir nodded. "My lord Elrond is busy at the moment, but I will tell him you have arrived. What is your name?"

"I am Tauriel," she said.

"Tauriel." He nodded. "Yes. Losseth, could you kindly take our guest somewhere she can stay for the time being?"

The guard nodded. "Follow me, Lady Tauriel."

As Losseth led her away, Tauriel said, "I am no lady or lord. I am only a servant of my king...and even that no longer."

"You are our guest," she said. "We will treat you kindly."

"Thank you," Tauriel murmured. "Your hospitality makes my hardships easier to bear."

"I'm glad to hear that," Losseth said, "though personally, I'm just excited to see a new face!" She smiled at her. Tauriel hesitantly smiled back.

Losseth led her to a small building not far away from the gates.

"Here is where you may stay," she said. "When Lindir has news for you concerning Lord Elrond, he will find you here."

Tauriel set aside her few belongings next to the comfortable-looking bed that the house provided. It had been a long time since she had slept in a real bed that actually fitted her.

"Thank you, Lady Losseth," she said to the kind guard.

The guard smiled. "Lady yourself! You are very welcome. If you are ever in need of some company during your stay, ask the guard house for me."

"I will." If she planned to stay here for a while, it would be nice to have a companion. In Lothlórien, she had been alone, for the most part. Here, it seemed she had already met a friend.

Losseth left. Tauriel realized that she had been craving good company. She had not had a close friend since before her exile. She had had Legolas then, and companions among the guard, but she had not seen any of them since the battle. She had told no one of her thoughts or sadness save Galadriel, and Dís way back when. All her grief for Kíli had been solely contained and bottle up. Perhaps that was why it was so hard for her to move on.

Her hand found its way to the promise stone in her pocket. She carried it beside her always, a reminder of all she had lost. Her grief welled up inside her again. She fought to push it back, to focus on what was going on around her now.

Rivendell was a beautiful place. She admired the architecture and the gentle climate. She was sure it was protected by Elrond's own magic, as Lothlórien had been by Galadriel. She was curious as to how, but she doubted anyone would tell her. She was, after all, an outsider.

She wondered how extensive Elrond's library was. In the Greenwood, she had liked to read, though her duties as Captain of the Guard didn't often allow her much leisure time to do so. If she was to stay here, perhaps she could make reading a hobby once again.

Tauriel stayed in the house for a day. She spent her time unpacking her bow and re-inventorying her few possessions. She cleaned her bow and sharpened her daggers. She pressed her map flat overnight, then folded it up the next morning.

She had run out of busywork to do and was considering going to find Losseth when at last Lindir arrived.

"My lady Tauriel," he said politely, "come with me. Lord Elrond will see you now."

She rose and followed him, suddenly buzzing with nerves. this was not like her chance meeting with Galadriel in Lothlórien. She had expressly asked to see Lord Elrond, rather than simply waiting for him to find her.

Lindir led her to Elrond's study. Tauriel thanked him the door and entered. She had been vague with Galadriel (not that it had really done anything), but she felt that honesty was probably the best idea if she truly wanted counsel and guidance from Elrond. Still, she was not very excited about baring her soul to a complete stranger.

Elrond was reading when she arrived. Tauriel coughed to make herself known. He put down his book and turned to smile at her.

He was a kindly-looking elf, though an ancient sadness and wisdom hid behind his eyes. Tauriel felt a bit more at ease. If he was anything like Galadriel had said he was, he surely would be able to help her.

"Tauriel," he greeted her. "Please. Sit."

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured, sitting down across for him. A desk was between them.

"Lindir says you were sent here by Lady Galadriel," Elrond said.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"Do you bear a message?" he asked.

She shook her head. "No, my lord. I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm. Lady Galadriel sent me here to ask for your wisdom."

"My wisdom?" Elrond chuckled. "I doubt those are her exact words. My wisdom was never something she valued while I was courting her daughter."

Tauriel leaned back a little, feeling uneasy. "Uh...yes. She said we have circumstances in common and that you might be able to help me...move on from my grief."

Elrond's face grew sober. "I see." He sighed. "Yes, that is something I have experience with. How can I aid you?"

Tauriel launched into her story. "Nearly a year ago, I was the Captain of Thranduil's Guard. I did my job well, though he and I disagreed on policy often." She smiled a little, remembering. It all seemed so long ago, though really it had not been compared to the eternity of her life before and after. "One day, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield trespassed into our lands."

"They did the same to us," Elrond murmured.

"We captured them, and, well...I took a liking to one of them." Tauriel closed her eyes as she remembered. "His name was Kíli."

Elrond nodded. "I think I recall him. Thorin's nephew, the one without much beard?"

"Yes," she said. "We...I do not know exactly how or why, but we fell in love."

Elrond raised his eyebrows. "An elf and a dwarf? That is unheard of."

"It is unusual," Tauriel admitted, hoping he would not find the notion too offensive, "but his hands were gentle, his words kind, and our souls were alike in our love of our peoples and our need for freedom. My lord, you are half-elven. Surely you can understand?"

Elrond frowned. "Empathy I cannot give you, not with what I know. But sympathy...I can manage that. My brother, Elros...he chose to become a man when the Valar offered as the choice long ago. I know there are those who have desires other than my own."

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured. "I am afraid my tale does not have a happy ending. In the Battle of the Five Armies...Kíli died."

Elrond looked at her gravely. "I had heard...I did not seem to connect the two thoughts until now. Tauriel...my sincerest condolences. I am sorry for your loss."

"I have wandered since," she said. "I have lived for six hundred years and will live much longer, but Kíli...he uprooted my life in only a few days. I have been banished from the Greenwood for treason...I have no home. I went to Lothlórien, seeking guidance and rest, but I found none. Lady Galadriel directed me to you, my lord." She looked at him helplessly. "I do not like to beg, but I do not know what to do. I cannot go back to the Greenwood."

She stopped talking, waiting for him to say something. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened his eyes and looked at her gravely.

"My brother chose a mortal life," he said. "I watched him fade slowly until death. My parents left me as a child, a war tearing us apart. My wife, dear Celebrían...she was hurt gravely in these lands and sailed from these shores to recover. All I have left are my studies, my children, and my duties to these realms."

He reached forward and took her hand gently. "Loss cuts like a knife. It will hurt forever. I will never see my brother again, for he has gone on to receive Ilúvatar's gift...It hurts. I do not know what fate lies ahead of you, Tauriel, but pain will be a constant companion of yours."

Tauriel nodded. She knew he was right. The pain had lessened, had become less prominent, but it was still there.

"But there is hope," Elrond continued. "I have found solace in my life through my studies, and the remnants of my family. Find something to help you cope. You will feel better if you are not alone, as well."

"Where ought I to go, my lord?" she asked.

"You may stay here, if you wish," he offered. "Rivendell can be your home. We are, after all, a haven to those lost, like myself, and like you."

Tauriel bowed her head, mulling it over. He had only confirmed what her mind had been leading to. She would find work, find friends. She would recover. She already felt welcomed here, by both Elrond himself and the guard Losseth. She could build herself back up here.

"Yes, my lord," she said. "I would like to stay here, for the time being."

"I will arrange for more permanent quarters to be found for you," he said, sitting up in a businesslike manner. "You could become a guard, if you wished. Have that duty once again."

"Perhaps not right away," she said, "but someday...I would like that."

"Good." Elrond picked up his quill and resumed his writing. "Lindir can help you, if he is still waiting outside."

"Thank you, my lord," she said.

"I am glad to be of help." Elrond smiled. "Welcome to Rivendell, Tauriel."


	8. Chapter 8

We're getting into the events of LotR now. I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reviewing!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **EIGHT**

* * *

Tauriel lived in Rivendell for nearly sixty years, rebuilding herself. After a year of recovery, she took Elrond up on his offer and joined the guard. It was not a difficult job. She rarely was forced to use her weapons, save in practice. She found the other elves in the Guard to be skilled warriors. Most of them were much older than she was, but Losseth was only a couple hundred years her elder.

She stuck by Losseth's side at first, as she was the only person she knew, but eventually she found a similar camaraderie with the Rivendell elves as she had in the Woodland Realm. Losseth reminded her very much of one of her old friends, Midhel. She had not seen Midhel since her banishment. She wondered how she was doing.

Losseth and Tauriel became good friends, though Tauriel never revealed to her or anyone else other than Elrond how or why she had come to Imladris.

Tauriel was one the few Silvan elves in Rivendell. Most of the valley's population were Sindar, with some Noldor like as Elrond and his family. Tauriel sometimes accompanied Losseth and some others of the Guard out hunting with Elladan and Elrohir. She met the Lady Arwen a few times, though she never really got to know any of Elrond's family.

One day, she was on duty by the gates when she heard the sound of a horse's thundering hooves. Tauriel drew her bow, exchanging a confused glance with Losseth.

"Who could that be?" she asked. She doubted it was an enemy—though evil creatures had begun to creep back into the west, most avoided Rivendell.

"Lady Arwen, perhaps?" Losseth suggested. "She went out riding a few days ago."

"I guess we'll see," Tauriel said. She had an arrow nocked to her bow, but she held it loosely, not expecting any trouble. If she had been back in the Greenwood, it would have been a different story.

The thundering sound grew closer and louder, then through the gates burst a horse. Lady Arwen sat upon it, cradling a small, limp body. Tauriel's eyes widened. Was it a child?

Arwen stopped her horse short and called up to the guards, "Come! Help me!"

Tauriel and Losseth scrambled down from their posts and raced toward her. As she neared, Tauriel realized that the body was not that of a child, but of a halfling.

Arwen cradled the halfling in her arms and gently handed him down to Losseth. Arwen got down from her horse and then helped Losseth support him.

"We must take him to the healers," she said urgently. "Quickly—he's fading fast!"

"I'll stay on duty," Tauriel said quickly. "Losseth, go with her ladyship."

The two elf women hurried off, carrying the unconscious halfling as best they could. Tauriel, still unsure of what was going on, unsheathed her knives, just in case part of Lady Arwen's need for haste was that she was being followed.

After not very long, she heard the sound of more people approaching. Tauriel tensed, her eyes locked on the gate. She was ready to attack.

Soon, four peculiar figures marched up to ther: a ragged, careworn man and three more halflings.

"Halt!" she commanded. "Who goes there?"

The man nodded to her, waving a hand at the halflings. One of them whispered to another, "Look, Merry, another elf!"

"Hush, Pippin!" the other one hissed. The third only stared up at her with wide eyes.

" _Mellon_ ," the man said in greeting. Tauriel lowered her weapons and raised her eyebrows. He spoke Sindarin? He was likely not a threat, then.

"You must be new to this post," he said. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. I was raised here, by Lord Elrond. Please—Lady Arwen took our companion through here earlier. He is gravely injured."

"Aragorn?" she asked. That name sounded familiar. Tauriel was not too caught up in Elrond's family politics and did not know much about any man being raised in Rivendell. And it _was_ true—she had only been assigned to this post for a few years.

"I was known as Estel," Aragorn explained.

Tauriel's mind cleared. Yes. She remembered now. She had never met the little child, but she had heard stories of young Estel.

"Lady Arwen took him to the healers," she said, pointing the way. "Do you need an escort?"

"No, I know the way. Thank you," he said. She stood aside as he passed, leading the halflings along behind him.

Losseth came back not long afterward, their relief guard with her. Tauriel relaxed and followed her friend to the mess hall. As they walked together, they talked and wondered at the sights they had just seen.

"Did Lady Arwen let anything slip about what was going on with the halflings?" Tauriel asked.

Losseth shook her head. "Not really. We carried him to the healers, then she sent me to fetch Lord Elrond. When I came back here, I passed three more halflings, and—would you believe it—little Estel, all grown up! It's been awhile since he lived here. He's been off with the Dúnedain for a long time."

"Yes, I let them in," Tauriel said. "I've never met him before."

"He was a sweet little child," Losseth said. "He's much different now that he's older, though. Tall and handsome—or at least Lady Arwen seems to think so!"

Tauriel laughed. "Really?"

"Oh, we all know the young man was in love with her, but something's changed with her ladyship." Losseth frowned. "I _do_ hope she gets over it, though. Nothing good ever comes of interspecies relationships. Just look at all Lord Elrond has gone through because of it..."

Tauriel nodded, but her heart sank. Losseth was right. Relationships between elves and mortals never ended happily, she knew firsthand. But she did not like the tone of voice Losseth spoke in, as if Aragorn and Arwen were doomed simply because they were different. What would she think if she knew Tauriel had loved a dwarf?

* * *

Tauriel and Losseth soon learned something very big was happening. They, being guards and not Elrond's advisors or confidants, were not exactly in the know of all the details, but all of Rivendell was abuzz with the news.

Estel was back, all grown up and with important responsibilities. He was some human prince, Tauriel learned, a distant relative of Lord Elrond. The four halflings he brought with him were on some sort of quest, the details of which she wasn't sure of. The injured one was being treated by Elrond and his best healers. Even Mithrandir, who also looked much worse for wear, arrived suddenly in the valley and became involved.

Tauriel was deathly curious of what was going on, but she did not think she would find out. Losseth theorized that the halflings were somehow related to the old halfling who lived in the citadel by invitation of Elrond. Tauriel had never met him, but she had seen him at a distance. She thought the idea he was involved unlikely, but it was possible.

One day, Elladan dropped in to visit the off duty guards. He was friends with Ivorion, the Captain of the Guard, and Tauriel hung around to listen to them talk.

"Yes, they are all already on their way," Elladan confirmed.

"The delegates?" Ivorion asked.

"Yes," Elladan said. "My father said this Council will be of utmost importance and secrecy, so I can't tell you any details, but I do know of some who are coming."

"Well, do tell, Elladan!" Ivorion exclaimed.

"Dáin of Erebor is sending someone," Elladan said, "and so is Denethor of Gondor. So is Círdan from the Gray Havens. Aragorn and Mithrandir are already here. Oh, and I heard Thranduil was sending someone as well."

Tauriel's eyes widened as she eavesdropped on the other side of the room. As she pretended to be very interested in her nails, Elladan and Ivorion moved onto other topics.

Thranduil was sending someone...well, at least he wasn't coming herself. Perhaps it would be someone she knew. Her old friend Midhel, or...maybe Legolas.

As she saw Losseth poke her head in the room and beckon for her, Tauriel left Elladan and Ivorion's conversation. Losseth would love to hear these new details.

* * *

Soon the delegates began to arrive. The sick halfling had finally woken after three days, and the Council of Elrond was to be held when he recovered fully. Tauriel was off duty when Galdor, the messenger Círdan had sent from the Gray Havens, arrived. When Denethor's son arrived, he came through the back gate, looking awfully lost, so she heard. That was not her post—she manned the main gate.

She nervously awaited the coming of Thranduil's delegates. She had not kept her place of origin a secret, but she did not really want the elves of Rivendell to learn why she had left. In fact, she considered concealing her presence there completely from whoever Thranduil sent. It would be hard to do so if she was on duty when they marched through the gate, however.

Losseth could tell she was uncomfortable discussing these possibilities and didn't press her for details, though she did ask once if Tauriel was looking forward to seeing some of her own kin. Tauriel's awkward silence in response dissuaded any further questions.

Tauriel had the luck of being on guard duty when Dáin's party of dwarves stomped up to the gates, looking very out of place. It was rare to see anyone but an elf in Rivendell—these past few days had been very unusual.

Tauriel's eyes widened in surprise as she realized that she recognized one of the dwarves. Flaming red beard, a large nose, grumpy disposition—this could only be—

"Glóin?" she exclaimed.

To her surprise, the other dwarf was the one that glanced over to her in response. This one had a gray beard, but Tauriel immediately realized that this one was, indeed, Glóin. He had simply aged. The other one seemed much too young, now that she got a good look at them both. Time changed mortals in peculiar ways.

"Captain Tauriel?" Glóin said.

Tauriel grinned. "Yes, it is me!"

Glóin laughed. He rushed toward her and embraced her roughly. Surprised by his affection, Tauriel patted his back awkwardly, though she was glad to see him.

Losseth and the other dwarf looked at the two of them in shock. Elves and dwarves were generally hostile to each other—this level of familiarity was unheard of. Tauriel wondered what Losseth would think if she knew how close she'd gotten to Kíli!

A stab of grief interrupted their happy reunion at Kíli's memory. However, determined to be happy, she pushed it aside. Glóin let go of her and smiled up at her.

"I had no idea you would be here in Rivendell!" he exclaimed.

"And I had no idea you would be the one Dáin sent!" she countered.

Glóin noticed Losseth and the other dwarf's confused looks and turned to them.

"Tauriel and I knew each other many years ago, when we were—" he began to explain.

"—traveling together," she said, quickly cutting him off. Doubtless Losseth would not be satisfied with that answer, but she would do the proper explaining in private, if at all. She didn't know if she wanted her new friend to know the truth. "Before I came to Rivendell, nearly sixty years ago. We hated each other, at first, but—"

"She grew on me," Glóin said.

"Only after I saved your life," Tauriel teased.

"I was doing fine," he complained. "I had it under control. But yes—it took awhile, but we are friends now."

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again!" Tauriel said.

"Nor I, you!" Glóin said. "I suppose fate had other things in mind."

"Who _are_ you?" Losseth asked. She seemed to be on guard and hostile still, for all it was clear these were Dáin's delegates and old friends of Tauriel's. "I mean..." She trailed off, realizing how accusatory she sounded. "What are your names?"

"Forgive me." Glóin nodded to Losseth. "I am Glóin, son of Gróin. This is my son, Gimli."

The younger dwarf smiled at Tauriel and nodded, though he seemed a bit confused and not quite happy to be there.

"King Dáin sent us with a message, and also, I heard, to take part in this council," Glóin said.

"I can take you to someone who can show you your lodgings," Tauriel offered.

"I'll stay on duty, then," Losseth said unenthusiastically.

"Thank you, Losseth," she said. As she led Glóin and Gimli to where she hoped she could find Lindir, the two of them caught up on the past sixty years.

Tauriel didn't have much to say (at least, not that she was willing to share). She had come to Rivendell and become a guard. Not much had happened in those sixty years, and indeed they did not seem very long compared to how long she had lived before. All the news she had was recent, about the Council of Elrond. And she did not even know much about that.

Glóin gave her news of Erebor's recovery and growth. The Lonely Mountain prospered, trading with Dale—and, to Tauriel's surprise, the Woodland Realm. Peace reigned—for the most part.

"There have been troubling things afoot," Glóin said at one point, frowning. "Ill tidings and threats."

"That is not, perhaps, information to be shared with Elrond's guards," Gimli cut in. He eyed Tauriel warily. "We ought to save that for the Council."

Tauriel raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing. Glóin frowned.

"Yes, perhaps you're right," he admitted. "It is not supposed to be common knowledge. I am sorry, Captain Tauriel."

"I am not a Captain here, just the gate guard," Tauriel said. The conversation spiralled off into a different direction. She inquired how Dwalin and Balin were doing. Glóin revealed that while Dwalin remained in Erebor, Balin had led a company to reclaim the ancient dwarf kingdom of Moria. Tauriel hoped he was successful, though the thought worried her. From what she had heard, that was a dangerous place.

Soon she saw Lindir talking with some unfamiliar elves. She frowned, recognizing the make of their clothes. It was much like her own from the Greenwood. Her heart sank as she realized who they were—Thranduil's envoys. And leading them, though she could only see the back of his blond-haired head, was Legolas.

She backed away. "Lindir will help you now, Glóin," she murmured to him. "I must go. Farewell! I shall try to find you later!"

"But, Tauriel—" Glóin said in confusion.

"Goodbye!" She turned and hurried back to the gate, her heart pounding. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Legolas turn and see her. He opened his mouth in shock, but she turned down a path and was gone.


	9. Chapter 9

if that last chapter seemed suspiciously not angsty, fear not, the angst has returned.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **NINE**

* * *

Tauriel spent the next few days avoiding Legolas—and Losseth, as well, when she was not on duty. She could tell this upset her friend, but she had no idea how to tell her how she knew Glóin or how to answer the inevitable questions about how she had come to Rivendell in the first place. She felt very guilty ignoring her kind, well-meaning friend, but it was too much for her.

Seeing Legolas again was also too much. Here was a painful reminder of another friendship that had been ruined. She hadn't spoken to him after the battle so long ago. He had left for the Dúnedain, and she was too busy mourning Kíli to feel bad about that, too.

It was in times like this when she missed Kíli most. She missed what he could have been to her: a confidant, a shoulder to cry on, a best friend. If they'd had their chance, their time...

She broke off that line of thought. She really ought to just tell Losseth everything. It would be better than hiding and being vague and secretive. And if Losseth truly was her friend, she would still love her after learning Tauriel had fallen in love with a dwarf, betrayed her king and people, and hidden her past from her closest friend.

Well, putting it that way, maybe it wasn't such a good idea.

Eventually, the day after Council of Elrond, Tauriel mustered all her courage and went to find Losseth. They had been on duty together in the morning, a cold and uncomfortable silence between them. Now, at last, that would come to an end.

Losseth was in her rooms, quietly writing, when Tauriel came across her.

"Um...Losseth?" she said. "Can I come in?"

Losseth looked up at her and pursed her lips. "I suppose."

Tauriel looked down guiltily as she walked inside. Losseth was angry, and for good reason.

"Have you come to explain why you've been avoiding and ignoring me for the past several days?" Losseth demanded as Tauriel sat across from her.

"Yes," Tauriel said quietly. "Losseth—I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen—I just—"

"Just tell me why," Losseth said, crossing her arms and glaring at her.

Tauriel took a deep breath. "I knew you'd ask me how I met Glóin, why I was traveling with him so long ago. I didn't want to have to explain, so I just...avoided you. But that was wrong. I'm sorry."

"I don't _understand_ ," Losseth said. She didn't seem quite so angry now, but hurt and confused. "Why couldn't you just _tell_ me?"

"I know how you feel about dwarves," Tauriel said. "You're just like the others, you hate them because they're different from you."

"I don't _hate_ them," Losseth protested. "But, I mean...they're _dwarves_. They're ugly, and rude, and _stupid_. We're enemies, anyway."

"If we're enemies, how come we welcomed Glóin and Gimli to the Council?" Tauriel asked. "Besides—you can't just assume things about an entire race like that!"

Losseth scowled, her pretty features marred by her anger. "Just get to the point, Tauriel."

"I met Glóin after I left the Greenwood," Tauriel said, looking down at her hands. "I... Thranduil had banished me from his kingdom."

" _Banished_?" Losseth exclaimed. "Is _that_ why you left? —What did you do?"

"I disobeyed his orders. I was the Captain of the Guard, a loyal warrior, for all I disagreed with his politics sometimes. Then...one day, a group of dwarves trespassed into our forest." Tauriel bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase this next part. "I took a liking to one of them. Then they escaped—"

"You didn't help them escape?" Losseth said, her eyes wide in horror.

"No!" Tauriel exclaimed. She was a traitor, technically, but she wasn't _that_ much of a traitor. All she had done had been because she had thought it was right. "But I did disobey Thranduil's orders not to follow them. They were trying to reclaim Erebor, and—"

"You were involved with _that_?" Losseth said incredulously.

"I had to go," she said. "Kíli was injured, I needed to save him...not that it didn't stop him from dying in the Battle of the Five Armies."

"You didn't _fall in love_ with a _dwarf_?" Losseth exclaimed. Tauriel looked up. To her dismay, Losseth seemed disgusted. She was pulling a face and her eyebrows were furrowed.

"He was so smart, and kind, and funny," Tauriel whispered, desperately trying to explain. "And he liked me, too. We...Losseth, please."

Losseth looked at her like she was crazy. "And you met that Glóin character through your dwarf lover?"

"After Kíli died, Glóin and some other dwarves invited me to come along with them to deliver the news to Kíli's mother." Tauriel was just saying these things now. Losseth was beyond reach now—there was no way she could ever understand. "I didn't tell you because I wanted a fresh start, to put my past behind me and recover from Kíli's death. But with Glóin coming back...all my old wounds are reopening."

Losseth looked at her like she was mad. "You're insane. I can't believe...you hid this from me for sixty years, Tauriel! How _could_ you?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't like me if you knew," Tauriel said desperately. "Please, Losseth—"

"No." Losseth's angry voice cut into her like a knife. Tauriel's eyes began to fill with tears. "I can't do this anymore. You _lied_ to me—then ignored me—all over filthy _dwarves_? You're a traitor to your own kind, Tauriel."

"Losseth..." Tauriel hung her head, tears dripping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"Be sorry." Losseth stood up. "I'm requesting a transfer to the back gate. Please go away."

Tauriel nodded, a lump in her throat. She stood up and walked out of the room. As she reached Losseth's doorway, she stopped and turned back.

"You won't tell this to anyone else, will you?" Tauriel asked, her voice hoarse.

Losseth glared at her. "No. But only because no one would believe me if I did. An _elf_ and a _dwarf_..."

Tauriel left. She wandered around the quiet paths of Rivendell, dazed and shocked by what had just happened. Losseth was just...gone. Out of her life. Her closest, only friend...hated her. It hurt like a knife.

She found a bench to sit on and put her head in her hands, crying her heart out. She had no one now...nothing.

How could she have known this would happen? Losseth had always been so kind to her, so welcoming. Only because she hadn't known the truth. Tauriel wished that she had never met Kíli, that she was still Captain of the Guard. She would not have lost Kíli, or Losseth, or...Legolas.

Legolas was here. She wished he had not seen her. She couldn't deal with grief from him as well as from Losseth. She ought to leave Rivendell, escape her past once and for all...but how? Where would she go? Not even this haven was her home anymore.

She wiped her tears from her face. At least she had not lost Losseth to death like she had Kíli. She still lived and would recover and thrive, though without her. Besides, she had not even been a good friend if she would leave her over such a thing as this. Good riddance. Kíli, had he lived would never have been like this. He would have accepted elven things for her sake, and she dwarven things for his.

But he was gone. She did not have that chance. All of the chances for happiness she grasped at seemed to fail. What was she to do?

She took a deep breath as her tears subsided. She could do nothing like this. She ought to rest for a while. Everything would be better after a sleep.

Suddenly, Tauriel felt a gentle, familiar hand on her shoulder. She sat up quickly, her hands scrambling for her belt knives.

"Tauriel, it's me!" a familiar voice said.

She froze. Slowly, she returned her knives to their sheaths and looked up at him.

"Legolas," she said, looking at him for the first time in sixty years. Her heart pounded. She was not sure if she was happy to see him. They had been close friends, but the terms of their parting had not been good, and there were too many words left unsaid. She wished he had stayed after the battle, at least long enough to say goodbye, or that she had managed to think about something other than Kíli's death in the aftermath of the bloodshed.

He smiled. He seemed different, somehow. Happier. Freer. She wondered how that had happened, especially now that she felt so much heavier and sadder than she had been last they met.

"Tauriel," he greeted her. "I'm sorry to interrupt your privacy, but I had to see you." He sat beside her on the bench. "I had no idea you would be here!"

"I came here after your father banished me," she said, carefully guarding her true feelings. She did not know what his intentions were. Did he come to apologize? To rekindle their friendship? Was he in love with her as Thranduil had seemed to think? What did he want?

At her words, he glanced down awkwardly. Perhaps he felt some guilt on his father's behalf. But soon enough he looked back up, a smile on his face. "It is good to see you again. I have traveled far since we last met. My father sent me here with news. At the Council yesterday, it was decided that I and eight others will—well, it is supposed to be a secret for now. I am sure Lord Elrond will tell his people soon enough."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes. I have found a home here. Although..." It did not feel so much like a home anymore, now that Losseth had betrayed her trust. She forced that thought out of her mind and smiled bitterly up at Legolas.

"Are you alright?" he asked in concern. "You were crying when I came over here."

She sighed and glanced away. "I just...told a friend something she did not like. We are not friends anymore."

Legolas patted her on the shoulder. "Tauriel, I am sorry."

"And now you come over here and I do not know what to say." Tauriel brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face. "You left without saying goodbye. The last I saw you was in the middle of battle. I have lost so much...and by your demeanor you seem to be in good spirits. Why have you come to speak with me?"

She looked back over and found his eyes full of concern. "I have come to reunite with a dear friend. I have not seen you in a long time, Tauriel. I have missed you."

"Did you love me?" she blurted out. "I mean, romantically? Your father seemed to think so, and after everything that happened with Kíli—"

"No," Legolas said, his cheeks reddening. "I did not, nor do I now. Tauriel, I—" He hesitated. "My father often, especially back then, misinterpreted things. We have spoken...it is better now. I do love you, as a friend. I am very sad to have you gone from my life for so long, living so far away. If you ever wish to return to the Greenwood, I could speak with my father. Time has passed, and though your actions were not what he had wanted, things have worked out for the better."

"For him, at least." Tauriel relaxed. She felt much better knowing that he did not harbor any feelings for her that she could not return. She had missed his friendship. "I...I do not know. I'm not sure if I really belong here in Rivendell anymore." _Not if I am to be alone_ , she thought. "But returning..."

She had never really intended to dwell in Rivendell forever, and now there was little keeping her here. But...returning to the Greenwood? She didn't know. She missed her homeland, and her old friends, and if the others were like Legolas they would have forgiven her by now. But Thranduil...his last words to her had expressed regret and apology, but he had not rescinded her banishment. Would he welcome her? And was she ready to return and face her past?

"I must go with the Company soon, in any case," Legolas said. "Once this mysterious business is dealt with, I can appeal to my father, if you wish me to."

"I will consider it," Tauriel said at last. "Thank you, Legolas." She sighed. Today had been too much for her. She was tired. "I ought to go now. Thank you...and goodbye."

* * *

 _a/n: Soo...I feel a bit bad about everything that happened with Losseth, but it was really necessary for the continuous narrative, and probably more realistic. Not everyone has experience with interspecies relationships like Elrond did, after all. this isn't the last we'll see of Losseth, though..._

 _thanks for commenting!_


	10. Chapter 10

hey, sorry for abandoning this fic for a couple weeks! my life got super busy, and it's about to get even more busy. I'm going on a temporary hiatus for at least the next few weeks. I should come back with an update in early April with more news, but we'll see how it goes.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **TEN**

* * *

In the next few months, word quickly spread that the quest which Legolas had been chosen to be a part of was of grave importance. It concerned the destruction of—something. The rumors varied: some said it was a cursed sword, others a magic jewel, and still more believed it was an evil person of some sort. Tauriel didn't try to guess which was correct. She was sure that Losseth had plenty of theories, but...well, she wasn't privy to them anymore.

The questers left two months after the Council of Elrond. Tauriel was on duty as they left. There were nine of them: Legolas, Glóin's son Gimli, Aragorn, Mithrandir, Denethor's delegate and son Boromir, and, to her surprise, the four halflings.

Before they left, Legolas found her once more.

"Have you thought about my offer?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said. "I...I still am not sure."

"You do not seem very happy here," he discerned.

Her lips twitched into a bitter, wry smile. "You noticed."

"Yes." He looked at her, his eyes wide with concern. "I have missed you, Tauriel. You might be happier back home, where you belong."

She nodded. "Yes. But I do not know if I will be welcomed. I am a traitor, after all."

"My father will pardon you, I am sure of it," Legolas said confidently. "And the others will forgive you, even if they do not understand."

Tauriel sighed. She wished she could believe that, but after what happened with Losseth...

"Can I tell you after your quest?" she said. "I will have my answer by then, if you could return here before you go back home."

Legolas nodded. "Of course." He glanced over to where the other eight questers were almost ready to depart. "I must go. Goodbye, Tauriel." He clapped her on the shoulder fondly, then walked away.

The company soon left. Glóin stood beside her, watching them go.

"My little lad," he said, his voice full of emotion. "Off to save the world."

Tauriel patted him on the shoulder awkwardly. "He'll be fine."

"If he and that elf don't kill each other." Glóin chuckled.

Tauriel smirked. "Legolas is not fond of dwarves, it is true. But he'll give him a chance. He remembers me and Kíli, after all...and there's nothing like close quarters to turn enemies into friends."

Glóin guffawed. "Very true!"

"Tauriel." The call came from Tosdir, her new guard partner. "Come back to duty. You can talk with your dwarf...friend later."

Tauriel nodded, flushing a little. "I'm coming. Goodbye, Glóin." She walked back to her post beside Tosdir.

"Goodbye!" the dwarf said. The company had long since disappeared. After looking through the gates one last time, he tromped off back to the citadel, leaving Tauriel alone with Tosdir.

Glóin left to return to Erebor the next day. Tauriel wished him goodbye and sent her greetings to Dwalin along with him, and Balin, too, next time they corresponded.

Only a month later, Lord Elrond called a great meeting with all of the inhabitants of Rivendell. The whole valley was abuzz with gossip as each elf gathered in the citadel to listen to their leader speak. No one was quite sure what was going on.

Tauriel found herself beside Captain Ivorion. "Hello, Captain," she greeted him.

"Hello, Tauriel," he said, smiling. "Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

She shook her head. "Do you?"

"No," he admitted. "I didn't have time to ask Elladan before coming here."

"I'm sure we'll find out soon," she said. True to her prediction, Elrond soon appeared before his people.

"Friends," he said, spreading his hands in welcome, "I have called you here today to alert you to some very major events. As I am sure you all know already, I and some of my closest advisors have counseled with delegates from all the strongest kingdoms in Middle-earth. A Fellowship has set out at the decision of the council. They go to destroy a powerful object, a task instrumental to defeating Sauron in this final, impending war."

Tauriel's eyes widened. This was serious business. She had heard of evil things abroad and knew these were dark times, but she had not yet grasped the full importance of those tidings. If Elrond spoke truly, she feared for the safety of Middle-earth. The Battle of the Five Armies paled in comparison to the full wrath of Sauron.

"I regret that I cannot tell you more," Elrond continued, "but to be more specific would put the secretive nature of the quest in danger. May the Valar bless and guide our faithful warriors as they journey on this perilous quest."

Tauriel stifled a giggle as she thought of the four young hobbits. Faithful they may be, but "warriors" was a bit of a stretch. Still, they had Legolas and the others to guide them. Mithrandir would not lead the Fellowship astray.

"This, however, is not all," Elrond said. He bowed his head. "These are dark times. For ages and years the power of the Eldar has waned, and now, as darkness creeps through our lands, I feel my heart grow heavier still. I have long considered my role in maintaining and protecting Rivendell as a last safe haven for the elves of Middle-earth, and I have come at last to a conclusion." He sighed. "I am leaving these lands for Valinor."

Murmurs of shock spread throughout the assembled crowd. Beside Tauriel, Ivorion gasped audibly.

"The time of the elves in Middle-earth is rapidly coming to a close," Elrond explained. "I will not abandon the people who need me—not yet—and I intend to stay to aid the free peoples of Middle-earth throughout this final war. But when it is over, I must go. My time is up. _Our_ time is up."

Elrond's children walked up behind him to in solidarity. Elladan and Elrohir wore somber expressions, and Arwen was visibly upset, but the three of them nonetheless supported their father in his decision.

"Rivendell is no longer a safe haven for all," Elrond said. "My remaining time here will be spent aiding the war effort. I cannot protect this valley as I once have. If you wish to remain, I will allow it, but I will assume that you wish to support our cause and I will put you to work. If you desire to leave for the Grey Havens, Galdor is returning there next week. You are all welcome to accompany him."

Elrond took one last look at his people, sorrow in his eyes. "I am glad to have spent so much time among you all. You are good people who do not deserve such hardships. But we all must fight the battles that are given to us. I wish you each the best of fortune in the storm to come." He nodded, then turned to leave.

Tauriel was shocked. She had not expected such news from him. It seemed she really would have to leave Rivendell, one way or another.

Around her, she heard elves discussing the news. To her surprise, she found that most had already decided to leave for Valinor. That had never really been a choice in her mind. Tauriel loved Middle-earth. Perhaps one day she would go to the Grey Havens and depart for whiter shores, but for now she would stay.

"What are you going to do, Tauriel?" Ivorion asked her.

She frowned. "I...I think I would like to go back to the Greenwood, one last time. And I will fight for these lands and these people. I have hope yet." She was surprised to realize that she did, and always had. Even after losing Kíli, losing her home, feeling so lost, finding a friend in Losseth only to lose her to petty grievances, even then—she still hoped for a brighter future. It was why she had not faded in grief, why she had not left for Valinor years ago, why she was still determined to fight for these lands. The stars still shone even in the blackness of night, and she would not give up her hope until they faded.

Ivorion nodded. "I understand. You've always been a fighter, as long as I've known you, though we have never been close. You won't give up, not when there's still light." He sighed. "I'm afraid I'm not quite the same. I have yearned for the joys of Valinor for an age, ever since I lost my beloved in the War of the Last Alliance. I stayed because of Elladan's encouragement and friendship, but I do not know I can stand another war. I will go with Galdor."

"I wish you joy in Valinor," she told him. "I hope the Valar allow you to see your beloved again."

He smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Tauriel. I wish you victory, and may your hope never die."

"Thank you," she murmured. He waved to her in farewell, then left, most likely searching for Elladan.

Tauriel took a deep breath. Legolas would not find her here after his part in this war was over. She longed to see the trees of her homeland again, to fight alongside her friends, to serve a cause once more. Legolas had opened the door to the possibility, but she was going to return to the Woodland Realm on her own terms.


	11. Chapter 11

I'm back! I'm not making any promises but I -should- be able to have more regular updates again.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **ELEVEN**

* * *

That very same day, Tauriel began to pack her things. She would not waste her time any longer. She intended to leave for the Greenwood the next morning.

She had almost finished when there was a knock at her door. She looked up, surprised to see Lindir.

"Tauriel," he said.

"Lindir," she greeted him. "How can I help you?"

"Lord Elrond would like to see you," he said.

Tauriel frowned. "What for?"

Lindir shrugged. "He will tell you himself. I do not know. He is in his study. I think you know the way?"

She nodded. "I do. Thank you." Lindir left. She finished folding up her map, left it on her bed, then walked out of her house and toward Elrond's study in the citadel.

When she arrived, Elrond was waiting for her. He gestured for her to sit in front of him.

"My lord," she said. "Lindir said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." He frowned, taking a deep breath. "You were at the meeting earlier today, correct?"

"Yes, my lord," she said.

"Half of Rivendell has already come to my study, begging me to stay, or saying that they will stand by me, or informing me that they intend to leave with Galdor." He smiled faintly. "I am exhausted, but my decision still stands. There are only a few people whose decisions I must know. You are one of them."

"My lord?" she asked, confused. "I'm just a Silvan elf, an outsider, a guard—why do you need to know _my_ decision?"

"Just tell me, please, Tauriel," he said. "I will explain later."

"I have decided to return to the Greenwood," she said. "There is nothing more keeping me here. I spoke with Legolas when he was here for the Council...I believe that Thranduil will allow me to return, after all this time."

"Good." Elrond smiled at her. "That is what I had hoped. Tauriel, you are uniquely situated. Most elves are either leaving for Valinor or joining the fight with me. I need to send a message to Galadriel. You have spoken with her before, and you are a Silvan elf like most of her people. I could send another, but you are already leaving Rivendell heading in that direction. Could you deliver the message to Galadriel and Celeborn in Lothlórien?"

Tauriel pursed her lips, considering his request. She didn't want to delay her return home any longer than she already had, but he needed her. Lothlórien was not very far from the Greenwood. She could deliver the message, then turn north toward the Woodland Realm.

"Yes," she answered. "What is the message?"

Elrond reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. "I have already written it. It is in here. You may read it if you wish, but do not show it to anyone else."

Tauriel took the envelope and placed it in her pocket. "Yes, my lord."

"Thank you, Tauriel," he said, sounding relieved. "Galadriel and I do not wish to abandon Middle-earth, not yet. This message contains orders to send elves to support whichever kingdom needs it most, be it Rohan or Gondor or Dale."

Tauriel nodded. She was glad that Elrond and Galadriel had decided to help the other peoples of the world. They saw what Thranduil had continually ignored: that the Eldar were a part of this world, no matter how much they wished to believe otherwise.

If Thranduil had changed his policy as Legolas said, perhaps he would fight in this war. But Tauriel feared he had not. The Thranduil she had known would be reclusive and secretive, guarding his people and shutting out the rest of the world. It showed strength that he had sent Legolas to the Council and allowed him on the Fellowship, but she would not trust the rumors of change until she saw the truth for herself. She needed to go and ensure that Thranduil did not sit this one out.

But first she would deliver the message to Galadriel.

"I am glad to help you," she told Elrond. "I will do all I can to aid Middle-earth in these dark times, but I believe my efforts will be most helpful among my own people."

Elrond nodded. "I wish the blessings of the Valar upon you, Tauriel."

She stood and bowed to him. "And I to you, my lord."

* * *

Tauriel finished packing, now with a different destination in mind. Even though Elrond had said it was alright if she read the letter, she didn't open it. It wasn't her business.

She took out her old, wrinkled map. She had gotten it sixty years ago in Rohan, before she had settled in Rivendell.

She would travel southeast, across the Misty Mountains. Traveling alone, she would be easy to miss. Hopefully, none of Sauron's forces would notice her. And if they did...she would deal with them. She may have been a little out of practice, but she remembered her training, and her knives were still sharp.

She rested that night, conserving her energy for the journey to come. She would need to be alert and careful.

Early the next morning, Tauriel gathered her possessions and left. She exited Rivendell at the southern gate.

"Halt!" a familiar voice called out before she could pass through the gate.

Tauriel froze. Losseth. Of course, this was her new guard post.

She turned around to face her former friend. Losseth glared at her, her once friendly countenance turned bitter. Tauriel did not see another guard on duty.

"What do you want, Losseth?" she asked tiredly. She didn't want to deal with this, not now. She was ready to leave all this behind.

"Where are you going, Tauriel?" Losseth demanded. "Abandoning your people again?"

Tauriel smiled wryly. "No. I'm returning to them."

Losseth glared at her. "Good riddance."

"Maybe one day you'll look back on this and regret losing a friend over such trivial bigotry," Tauriel said calmly, hiding her hurt. Even after her newfound resolve and mission, Losseth's words still stung. She missed their comradery and friendship. If they had managed to work their differences out and were still friends, perhaps Losseth would have accompanied her to Lothlórien and beyond. The thought turned her mind bitterly toward impossible possibilities, what-ifs and could-haves.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the reality of Losseth's anger. "Be loyal to your people, then," Losseth spat. "Enjoy your return to Erebor!"

Tauriel sighed. There was no winning her over. "I was sorry to lose you. It hurt. But I see now that you were not a friend worth having if you would not stand by me in everything."

"Leave, if you must, Tauriel," her former friend commanded. "And don't bother returning!"

"I wouldn't want to." Tauriel turned her back, allowing herself to grimace now that Losseth couldn't see her. Behind her, she could hear the elf woman muttering under her breath.

She thrust thoughts of bitter enemies and former friends from her mind. Tauriel breathed in the fresh morning air and smiled. She was off, traveling through the wild. It was good to leave the past behind. The future lay ahead, and she was ready for it.


	12. Chapter 12

"Regular updates" was such a lie. Here's a chapter as an apology.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **TWELVE**

* * *

 _Many places I have been  
_ _Many sorrows I have seen  
_ _But I don't regret  
_ _Nor will I forget  
_ _All who took that road with me_

* * *

Tauriel set out for Lothlórien in the middle of winter, one of the worst times to attempt to cross a mountain range of any sort. Still, traveling alone, she made good time. She walked for days on end, not stopping until she was exhausted. She ate only as much as she felt she needed to. She slept little, desiring to reach her destination as quickly as possible.

The cold bothered her some, but being an elf, her clothes kept her warm enough to remain living. It was not an ideal situation. Tauriel wished she had brought some warmer clothes, but there was no turning back now.

The mountains were a lonely place. It had been sixty years since she had last been truly alone. She did not particularly like the feeling. It was nice to get away from the chaos of life sometimes, but Tauriel's busy life back in Rivendell had provided a distraction from dark thoughts which resurfaced now with nothing to deter them.

She missed Losseth. Well, not really. She missed who she had thought Losseth was: a friend, someone she could count on, someone she could love. She missed her companionship, her outlandish theories surrounding whatever the hottest gossip was, her bad jokes, her casual bluntness. But all that had been torn away and ruined by her bigotry. Tauriel couldn't understand Losseth's unreasonable hatred of dwarves. It could really be boiled down to one thing: they were _different_ from her, an elf.

Tauriel sometimes wished she felt the same way. But to her, even strange outsiders like dwarves had always been _people_. Kíli had walked into her life and proved that. Dwarves like Balin, Dwalin, Dís, and even Glóin had proved that. She couldn't let go of her beliefs, not even for Losseth. So she'd had to let her go, for all it pained her to do so. She would move on, forget her bitterness, sail to Valinor. Tauriel, too, would follow the path life took her, over these mountains and to the forests beyond, reuniting with her old friends—if they would take her back, forgiving her where Losseth could not.

She hoped that the elves of the Greenwood would have forgiven her by now. Legolas had, and she was glad to regain a friend in him. But he had not been her only companion. People like Midhel, her second in command back when she had been captain, Midhel's brother Orelon, and the siblings Glándir and Úrphen, had also been her friends.

Midhel was brave and lighthearted, and could perhaps see Tauriel's actions in a noble light. Her brother was of a like mind. Úrphen and their brother Glándir, she worried about more. Those two were less forgiving.

And what about the people who had raised her after her parents' death? The healer couple Hithwen and Gwelonir, who had given her a home with them for years? Feren, the guard captain before her, who had helped train her and had guided her steps until she was ready to lead?

And what of Thranduil, her king? She had hurt him most of all, disobeying direct orders and insulting him to his face? In their last meeting, she had thought he had forgiven her somewhat, but he had not allowed her back into his kingdom. It had not mattered then, when she had no desire to return, but it would now that she did.

The more Tauriel thought along these lines, the more she felt dark and unhappy. One night, after an exhausting and cold day of travel in the high paths of the Misty Mountains, she lay before a small fire, getting warm. Without anything to distract her, she began to worry until she felt sick.

At last, she forced herself to do something. She was too tired to get up and move about, so she took out Elrond's letter to Galadriel and read it for the first time.

 _My Lady Galadriel,_ it read,

 _I have sent this message to you by a trusted messenger._

Tauriel smiled, feeling flattered.

 _I know she will have guarded its contents well, though I have allowed her to read them. We have previously discussed sending aid to the kingdoms of men in this War of the Ring._

War of the Ring? Tauriel wondered. What could that mean? Was the object that the Fellowship was trying to destroy a ring?

 _I have informed my people of my decision. I will send all my people who are willing to fight to you in these coming months, after my lone messenger. Rivendell is a shadow of its former self. My people are leaving these shores. I remain only so long as I must._

 _I urge you, upon receiving this message, to send a troop of elves to the realm of men. It is time for the elves to fight alongside our cousins, the race of men, once more. I suspect Rohan and Gondor will need support the most._

 _I wish you the blessings of the Valar._

 _Lord Elrond of Rivendell._

Tauriel put the letter away. She had known most of that already. The only new part was the phrase "War of the Ring". She was curious as to what it meant, but she did not think she would ask. She would most likely find out when this was all over.

She lay down, trying to get some sleep. She was interrupted suddenly by loud footsteps very close by to her. Instinctively, she shot to her feet, pulling out her knives. Her fire had burned low, but it still shone bright enough for her to make out the approaching figures: orcs.

The nearest one grinned, showing its slimy, jagged teeth. It turned to its four companions and hissed something to them in Black Speech. They rushed at her.

Tauriel grimaced and met them head on. She was still tired, not having rested for very long, but adrenaline pumped through her veins, giving her the energy she needed in order to fight.

The first orc attempted to cut her in two with its jagged, rusty blade, but Tauriel was too quick. She blocked its thrust with her left knife, cutting its belly open with her right. It screamed and collapsed into her smoldering fire, effectively putting it out.

But she couldn't rest yet. She spun around to face the other four attacking orcs. Two rushed her from the front, the other two from the back. Tauriel jumped out of their way, throwing one of her knives into an orc's eye. Two down, three to go, she thought grimly, and she only had one knife left.

She sheathed her remaining knife and pulled out her bow, nocking an arrow to it as she backed away from the menacing orcs. One tried to charge her, but she shot it through the throat. Now only two remained.

One lifted a bow of its own. Tauriel ducked as it shot an arrow near her head. The last one hung behind, looking at its fallen companions with fear.

Tauriel scrambled away from the orc with the bow as it continued to shoot at her. It did not have very good aim, but it distracted her enough to stop her from retaliating. She rolled behind a boulder in the snow, taking cover.

As she did so, Elrond's letter fell out of her pocket. She cursed. She could not let the orc touch it!

The orc stopped firing at her hiding spot and stomped forward to the letter. It grunted curiously. Tauriel quietly notched an arrow to her bow, waiting for it to walk into her line of sight.

She saw a clawed, ugly hand slowly reach down to grab the letter and...

 _Thwap!_ Her arrow sung through the air and into the orc's outstretched hand. It howled and leapt forward in outrage, allowing Tauriel to shoot it between its eyes.

Now there was only one orc left. She rose, her bow in her hand, aiming at the frightened beast. It looked at her with wide, terrified eyes, then turned to run away.

Tauriel took careful aim and fired into its calf, effectively stopping its retreat. She needed to find out how these orcs had discovered her, so she could not kill it—yet.

She picked up the letter lying on the ground, wiped a spot of orcish blood off the envelope, and stuck it in her pocket. Then she raced over to where the injured orc had collapsed on the ground, still trying to claw its way through the snow and away from her.

She pulled out her remaining knife and hauled the orc upright, holding her blade to its throat.

"How did you find me, filth?" she growled.

It squealed. "Don't hurt me!"

"Tell me!" she ordered, pressing her knife harder into its throat, though she was careful not to draw blood.

"My leader saw a fire in the distance," the orc gurgled. "We came to investigate!"

"Are there more of you?" she demanded. It said nothing. "Answer me, filth!" she spat.

"Yes!" it cried. "A squadron, sent to scout these mountains. After the disaster in the mines, we have been ordered to infiltrate the lands of men, preparing for war!"

Tauriel gasped. This was bad news. She didn't know what disaster this orc spoke of, but it had spurred the orcs out of the depths of the mountain and into the upper world, spreading out for war. Who had commanded them to do so—Sauron?

The orc babbled on, begging her to spare its life, but Tauriel could not let it go and alert the others to her presence in the mountains. She put it out of its misery quickly, cutting its throat.

She kicked snow over the remnants of her fire, removing her arrows and her knife from the orc corpses. She did not want anyone to know who had killed these orcs—and she could reuse those weapons, anyway. She quickly gathered her belongings and set out, fighting her exhaustion. She was not safe in these mountains, and she had even more urgent news to deliver to Galadriel.


	13. Chapter 13

this chapter's kinda short, but the next one's longer, I promise!

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **THIRTEEN**

* * *

Tauriel reached Lothlórien a week and a half later. In that time she had slept only once, and she had not lit another fire since the night of the orc attack. She was exhausted.

When she arrived at Lothlórien's borders, she collapsed in front of the first patrol of elves that she found. She did not recognize any of them, but she was simply too tired to walk another step.

When she woke, she felt much better. She was in a structure high in the trees, much like the ones she had seen before during her previous stay in the Golden Wood. She sat up slowly, blinking as she took in her surroundings.

A healer sat next to her. She leaned forward and propped up her pillows, helping Tauriel to sit more comfortably.

"You are safe here," she said gently. "I am Nelwen."

"How long was I out?" she inquired rubbing her head.

"One day only," Nelwen told her. "You collapsed at the border. The patrol took you here. Lady Galadriel and Captain Haldir both recognized you."

"Yes, I met them both before," she said. Suddenly, she realized that she wore different clothes than the ones she had arrived in. Panic rose in her chest and she asked, "Where are my clothes? My weapons? My message?"

Nelwen pointed to a corner where each item had been cleaned and stacked neatly. The letter, unopened, sat atop the pile. "We cleaned them, but did not touch the message."

"I must see Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn immediately," she said, swinging her feet down off the bed. "That message is urgent, sent from Lord Elrond!"

Nelwen's eyebrows shot upward. "I will send for Captain Haldir. He can take you to her ladyship. Dress, quickly, and prepare!" She rushed from the room.

Tauriel stood up, wincing. She ached all over. She had exhausted herself too much, trying to make it out of the mountains and into the forest without much rest. She could not do that to herself again.

She dressed into her old clothes as quick as she could, strapping her weapons back on and putting Elrond's message into her pocket.

Soon Nelwen returned, Haldir by her side. He nodded to her, smiling. "Tauriel. Welcome back to Lothlórien. I did not think I would see you again."

"Nor did I," she said, nodding back. "But fate had other plans, I see."

"Nelwen says that you wish to see Lady Galadriel now that you are recovered," Haldir said.

"Yes," Tauriel confirmed. "It is very urgent. I bear a message from Lord Elrond, and ill tidings of my own."

Haldir's expression grew grave. "I see. I will bring you to her Ladyship."

He led her down to the forest floor and through the trees. Tauriel spoke little, lost in thought. At last, they stopped in front of a set of wide steps.

"Her Ladyship should be up there," Haldir said. "If she is not, come back down and I will help you find her elsewhere. I will wait for you here."

"Thank you, Haldir," she said, nodding to him. She took a deep breath, then walked up the steps.

The stairs led her to a large platform. On it sat Galadriel, speaking quietly with her husband, Lord Celeborn. Tauriel approached them slowly, not wishing to be disrespectful.

"My lord, my lady," she said, trying to get their attentions. When they turned to see her, she bowed to them.

"Tauriel," Lady Galadriel said, smiling. "I am glad to see you recovered."

"Yes, my lady," she said. "I am as well. But I have urgent news for you."

"What news?" Celeborn asked.

Tauriel took the letter from her pocket. It was crumpled and stained with blood from the orc attack, but hopefully it would still be legible.

"This message is from Lord Elrond," she said. She walked closer to them, handing Galadriel the envelope.

She took it, frowning as she opened it. Her eyes quickly scanned through the short paragraphs, her brows furrowing deeper after every line. When she had finished, she handed it to Celeborn.

"This is indeed news of great import," Galadriel said, her words slow and deliberate. "Thank you for your dedication, Tauriel."

"My lady, that is not all," Tauriel said.

Galadriel raised a golden eyebrow in interest. "Go on."

"While I was traveling over the Misty Mountains, I was attacked by orcs," Tauriel began. "I killed them all, but first I interrogated one of them to discover how they had found me. My captive revealed that an army of orcs from the depths of the mountains had been called forth and marched to attack the world of men."

"These are grave tidings," Celeborn said. He set the message down and looked at his wife with a frown. "Galadriel, we must send out our warriors at once."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "This matter is more urgent than even Elrond knew."

"Has Mithrandir woken?" Celeborn asked her.

Galadriel shook her head. "He has not. He has been under immense stress. I am not sure how he survived, but he is very fortunate that Gwaihir bore him to our lands, where our healers can tend to him."

"Mithrandir is here?" Tauriel said in surprise. "But he was travelling with the Fellowship!"

"The Fellowship has been broken, I fear," Galadriel explained. "Mithrandir fell in Moria, battling a Balrog, and was separated from the rest. The other eight arrived here two weeks ago, and passed through the next day."

Tauriel frowned. Legolas had been here not long ago. "Mithrandir will wish to know my news once he wakes."

"We can inform him," Celeborn said. "You may leave, if you wish to, although your prowess in battle would be very useful in aiding the realms of men."

Tauriel did not answer him right away. She yearned to return to the Greenwood, but he was right. "I will stay at least for a few days more. I must regain my strength and restock my supplies. I travel on to the Woodland Realm."

Galadriel smiled at her. "I am glad to see you have regained a purpose, Tauriel."

She nodded. "You helped me, my lady, as did Lord Elrond."

"You helped yourself," Galadriel said. "Now, if you could tell Captain Haldir to come up, we must begin preparations for war."


	14. Chapter 14

here's chapter 14, enjoy :)

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
FOURTEEN**

* * *

The next day, Tauriel woke at midday after a long night's rest. She felt relaxed and alert, fully recovered from running herself into the ground on her journey to Lothlórien.

She dressed quickly, then gathered her belongings and went to find Haldir. Now that her message had been delivered, she ought to be leaving Lothlórien for the Greenwood, but something inside her told her she needed to linger for a little longer.

When she found Haldir, he was sitting talking with his brothers, his eyes wide in seriousness.

"Haldir," she greeted him. He looked up, raising his eyebrows.

"Tauriel." He did not seem happy to see her. He forced a smile on her face and stood, glancing back to his brothers. "Rúmil, Orophin, forgive me a moment. I must speak with Tauriel privately."

They nodded, exchanging worried glances. Haldir led Tauriel away from them and stopped when they were out of earshot. He folded his arms, his smile fading off his face.

"Is something wrong, Haldir?" Tauriel asked, confused. She wasn't sure what she could have done to cause such a chilly response. She had thought he had counted her as a friend.

Haldir bit his lip. "Yes. Though it is not your fault." He sighed, glancing back to his brothers, who watched them curiously from afar. "I am greatly troubled by the news you brought to Galadriel and Celeborn. Orcs leaving the mountains to fight against the free peoples...it could only be caused by Sauron. I knew there was something of grave importance afoot, especially after the Fellowship arrived within our borders, but I am now even more worried."

Tauriel nodded. "It is indeed grave news. We live in dark times." She was eerily reminded of a similar conversation she had had with Orelon, a friend of hers in the guard back in the Greenwood, the day the dwarves had escaped. He had expressed concern regarding all the trespassers in their lands—spiders, dwarves, and orcs. He had been right to worry.

" _I don't know what shall come, Tauriel,"_ Orelon had said, " _but it is surely nothing good. The Necromancer grows in power, so the rumors say...and now orcs walk free in our lands."_

" _I only wish we could_ do _something about it,"_ Tauriel remembered protesting. " _But Thranduil keeps us here, shutting his borders and staying away. It will not do—the outside world will keep invading. We must strike back."_

That was the last conversation she had had with Orelon before she had left the Greenwood, never to return. She had been right. The only way to victory had been to become involved.

She was an older, wiser elf now, but she still felt that staying in the shadows would do nothing. "Do Galadriel and Celeborn plan to do anything? Are they going to send aid to the realms of men as Elrond suggested?"

Haldir nodded. "Yes. I am to lead a force of elves to Rohan two days hence." He paused, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Will you accompany us? We can always use extra fighters, and you are welcome among us."

"I..." Tauriel trailed off. She was not sure. She wished to continue on to the Greenwood, to help her own people against the amassing orc armies, but Haldir's offer was tempting. "I do not know. I came here only to deliver a message, and now that I am recovered, I had thought to return to the Woodland Realm. I wish to return to my homeland before the war and aid my own people."

"We are your people, too, Tauriel," Haldir urged. "We are Silvan, your kin. You have been gone from the Woodland Realm for eighty years. You can stay away for a few days longer. Please—you can always go back after we are finished in Rohan."

"Haldir, I don't know." Tauriel shrugged helplessly. "I want to help you, I really do, but..."

What would she have done eighty years ago? Orelon had not urged to her to abandon her people, but he had sympathized with her desires to fight. If she returned now and met with him and the rest of her friends among the guard now, would he judge her for not helping the elves of Lothlórien? Haldir's people were her kin, and they had their own lands to protect. If she traveled with them to Rohan, that was one more elf they could leave behind to guard over Lothlórien, one more bow and sword to aid the kingdoms of men. If Thranduil really had changed, he would not be so foolish as to ignore the danger signs. There were many more fighting elves in the Greenwood than there were in Lothlórien.

Haldir sighed. "I wish you the blessings of the Valar, whatever you decide, Tauriel. But you have a place in our ranks if you so wish it." He clapped her on the shoulder and turned away.

He had only taken a few paces back to where his brothers sat when he turned around. "Oh, by the way," he said, "Mithrandir has woken. Galadriel told me to tell you that he wishes to see you."

Tauriel stood and watched him walk back, her mind troubled. Mithrandir wanted to see her? What could she tell him that Galadriel could not?

She left, searching for him. He would most likely be in the infirmary.

The healer, Nelwen, directed her to Mithrandir's room. She entered cautiously, remembering all the wild rumors surrounding the wily grey wizard. The few times she had seen him, she had never spoken to him. She remembered him being there that fateful day eighty years ago in Dale.

"Mithrandir," she said respectfully, standing at his bedside. He sat meditating on the mattress, his eyes closed. When she spoke, his eyelids flashed open and he took a deep breath, turning to face her.

"Ah, yes," he said, nodding. "You must be Tauriel."

"Yes, my lord," she said. He seemed...different somehow. He wore different clothes, but that was not everything. As she stared at him she noticed in surprise that his hair was no longer a mess of grey, but finely groomed strands of purest white.

"I was told you wished to see me," she said. "How may I be of service?"

"You spoke with an orc in the Misty Mountains?" he questioned.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"What did he say?" he asked. "Word for word, if you can remember."

Tauriel furrowed her brows, concentrating. Elves had very good memories. She recalled the encounter, and began to speak, being as accurate as she could remember.

"I captured it after killing its comrades," she began. "First, I asked it how it found me."

"Exactly those words?" Mithrandir pressed.

"Well, no," she admitted. "I said, ' _How did you find me, filth?'_ Then it said, ' _Don't hurt me!'_ I didn't, but I felt like it. I just wanted information."

"Very wise of you to interrogate it," Mithrandir said approvingly.

Tauriel shrugged. "It is always useful to learn from the enemy, in more ways than one." She remembered that it was a conversation with an orc that had first made her realize that she loved Kíli, and thus spurred her to disobey Thranduil and go after the dwarves, saving Kíli's life.

"Continue," the wizard said.

"I said, ' _Tell me!'_ I threatened it a little more, showing off my knives, and it cracked. It said, ' _My leader saw a fire in the distance. We came to investigate.'_ I asked if there were any more of them, and it responded, ' _A squadron sent out scouting the mountains. We have been ordered to infiltrate the lands of men after the disaster in the mines. We are preparing for war.'_ That was all the usefulness it had, after that it just kept babbling about sparing its life. I couldn't let it escape, obviously, so I killed it."

Mithrandir stroked his beard, clearly troubled. "The disaster in the mines...that is not good. It must have been referring to the Fellowship's journey through Moria... And it is exactly as you said, word for word?"

"As best I could remember," Tauriel answered.

"Thank you, Tauriel," he said. "You may go."

"I am glad to have helped in any way, Mithrandir." She bowed, then left.

* * *

Tauriel lingered in Lothlórien for a few more days. She avoided Haldir, not wishing to be pressured any more, but her mind was doing its own pressuring. She was very tempted to stay, to aid Rohan and Lothlórien, repaying the favors those lands had done to her in the past.

At last, on the day Haldir's warriors were to set out, she made up her mind. She packed all her things and went to find Haldir.

All of his elves were gathered together, wearing identical uniforms. Tauriel searched the crowd, looking for Haldir himself. She found his brother Rúmil and went toward him.

"Rúmil!" she called. "Have you seen Haldir?"

"He is over there," Rúmil said, pointing. Haldir stood at the front of the army, speaking with Galadriel, Celeborn, and Mithrandir.

She went up to him, respectfully keeping her distance as he spoke with his leaders.

"...careful. There may be orcs patrolling the distance between here and Edoras," Celeborn was saying.

"And if, by some chance, the Rohirrim are not in Edoras, go to Helm's Deep," Galadriel added. "They may already be preparing for war. We are not the only ones who are aware of the enemy's movements."

"Yes, my lady," Haldir said, nodding.

Mithrandir raised his white hood over his head, clutching his staff with wrinkled hands. He spoke directly to Galadriel, saying, "I will leave these lands now, though not with Captain Haldir. I must search for the remnants of the Fellowship, and guide Frodo and the Ring to Mordor now that I have recovered."

Tauriel's eyes widened. Mordor? The Ring? That was the business of the Fellowship? A chill settled over her. This truly was to be a war of the ages.

Mithrandir left, striding purposefully away, vanishing into the woods. Galadriel and Celeborn exchanged a long look, then turned again to Haldir.

"May the Valar be with you in this war, Captain," Celeborn said gravely.

"We will protect our homeland. Go, lead your warriors, and may your actions reunite the Eldar with our cousins among men," Galadriel said.

"I will, my lady," Haldir said. "Thank you."

They left. Haldir watched them go, before turning back to face his warriors. He caught sight of Tauriel and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Haldir," she said. "I have decided."

"And?" he asked.

"I will come with you to Rohan," she proclaimed.

He broke into a smile. "I knew you would!"

She smiled in return. "I am glad to fight alongside my brethren."

"Good, for we will such much fighting in the days to come." Haldir beckoned his brother Orophin forward. "Orophin, could you give Tauriel a cloak?"

Orophin nodded, running over to where some other elves stood—healers, Tauriel suspected, for she saw Nelwen among them. He came back bearing a dark blue cloak, which he gave to Tauriel.

She put it on, feeling strange wearing this garb. In the Greenwood, they had not had a uniform for the Guard, though she supposed this was different.

"I will find you a spot in our ranks," Orophin said. "Welcome."

She followed him, settling in with her new comrades. As soon as she was comfortable, she heard Haldir shout, "March!" at the head of the warriors. The army began to move, and they started their journey to war.


	15. Chapter 15

It's been a while, sorry. But I have a new chapter for you now, and that's what matters! (I hope.)  
Some dialogue for this chapter and the next is taken from the Two Towers movie.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **FIFTEEN**

* * *

The Galadhrim warriors traveled for several days, out of Lothlórien and down to Rohan. When Haldir led his people to Edoras, they found the Golden Hall deserted. Heeding Galadriel's command, he turned northwest to Helm's Deep, where he was sure the Rohirrim must have fled in the face of war.

Tauriel felt at home among the Lothlórien elves. She felt a surprising relief and comfort to be back among warriors, even if this time, she was not the one leading them. Rúmil and Orophin welcomed her into their ranks, introducing her to other warriors. Haldir talked with her when he could, as she knew him best, but he was busy leading the Galadhrim and was not always available.

At last, they arrived at the Hornburg. As Haldir led them forward in the night, he signaled for his heralds to blow their horns. The men of Rohan, who at this far distance looked like ants scurrying across the battlements, surged forward toward the noise.

Haldir led his warriors up the ramp leading to the gates of the Hornburg. As soon as the Rohirrim recognized them as friends and not foes, a cry was heard: "Open the gate!"

As the elves of Lothlórien marched into Helm's Deep, Tauriel did not miss the looks of wild hope in the eyes of the Rohirrim they passed. Even their king had wide, surprised eyes.

Haldir stopped to speak with him. The rest of the elves stopped abruptly. Tauriel had the fortune of being close enough to hear what they were saying.

"How is this possible?" the king asked breathlessly, his eyes surveying the ranks of the Galadhrim in wonder.

Haldir bowed to him respectfully. "I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell," he answered. "An alliance once existed between elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together."

Haldir's gaze wandered away from the king and toward two newcomers to the scene: Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Legolas. "We come to honor that allegiance."

Aragorn broke into a grin and raced down the steps to meet Haldir. " _Mae govannen,_ Haldir!" he exclaimed. He paused for a moment, then roughly embraced the elf in the manner of men.

Tauriel stifled a laugh. Elves were not especially prone to extreme physical touch, especially with those they were not well acquainted with. Aragorn seemed to have met Haldir before, but Tauriel doubted they were very close. He must be _very_ happy to see the reinforcements.

Aragorn let go of Haldir and continued, "You are _most_ welcome."

Tauriel was suddenly very glad she had come. Legolas was here, and her aid was clearly sorely needed. Even the difference of just one more elf could turn the tide in the battle to come.

Aragorn stepped back, and Legolas took his turn to greet Haldir, grasping his forearm in a slightly more elvish manner of welcome, but still one that showed his extreme gratitude for the presence of Haldir and his warriors.

A command rippled through the ranks of the Galadhrim, sent mostly likely by Orophin, and the elves turned to face the king. Haldir, now done greeting Legolas, looked back to the king and proclaimed, "We are proud to fight alongside men once more."

Haldir began to speak with the king in more prosaic matters, how their forces could be best put to use and such things. Up on the steps, Tauriel watched as a dwarf stomped his way forward: Gimli, son of Glóin. As soon as he approached, Legolas left Aragorn and the king to speak with him.

At the top of the steps, Legolas quickly filled Gimli in—or so Tauriel supposed. She could not hear the words they exchanged from that distance. The unlikely friends turned to observe the host of elves.

At last, Legolas's gaze wandered over to her face. His eyes widened in surprise as they made eye contact. Though her distinctive red hair was covered by the blue hood of the Galadhrim, he could easily recognize her face.

Legolas raised an eyebrow, and Tauriel in turn pursed her lips. Beside him, Gimli looked surprisingly at ease. Tauriel wondered how such bitter rivals could become friends. Perhaps Legolas had remembered her and Kíli, and kept on open mind and heart. And perhaps Gimli had listened to Glóin's words of wisdom, as well.

Whatever the cause, Tauriel soon lost sight of them both. Haldir finished speaking with the king, then began to disperse his warriors across the battlements. The orcs would soon be upon Helm's Deep and war was coming quickly.

Tauriel's body sang with anticipation in the tense air before a battle. She had _missed_ this. Living in Rivendell, she had very rarely had cause to use her weapons. She was eager to slay orcs again.

Before Haldir could send her away to her new post, she took him aside.

"Haldir," she said, "if I may, could I speak with Legolas before the battle?"

He raised his eyebrows, but nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you," she said. Then she smiled. "Are you ready for the battle, Captain?"

He grinned at her. "I am. I haven't killed an orc in years. I feel young again."

She laughed. "You will for a while, if this war is truly one for the ages."

"Go," he said, clapping her on the shoulder. "You're posted with Rúmil, but Legolas is waiting."

"Goodbye, Haldir," she said, suddenly overcome by a rush of fondness for this elf who had so kindly taken her in. "May your arrows be swift and your blade sharp."

"And may you always hit your mark," he said. "Goodbye, Tauriel." They exchanged one last smile, then Tauriel left to speak with Legolas.

He was not hard to find. She looked for Gimli, and discovered Legolas standing nearby, the two of them speaking in grave tones with Aragorn. As Tauriel navigated her way through the throng of Rohirrim and Galadhrim preparing for battle, Aragorn nodded to Legolas and walked away, their conversation evidently finished.

Tauriel took his place. Legolas smiled at her, and so did Gimli.

"Tauriel!" Legolas greeted her. "I did not think to see you again until after the war!"

"I did not expect to, either," she admitted. "But some months after you left, Lord Elrond asked me to deliver a message to Lothlórien. Haldir convinced me to tag along with his army, at least to here."

"Well, good for you, lassie," Gimli said enthusiastically. "We can always use the extra warrior!"

Tauriel looked at him and smiled warily, raising her eyebrows. "Master Gimli. I am surprised to see you in Legolas's company. I did not think you were overfond of elves."

Gimli shrugged. "Well, we have our differences, but this one isn't too bad." He elbowed Legolas in a friendly manner.

"I figured that if you could fall in love with a dwarf, I could at the very least attempt to befriend one." Legolas took a step away from Gimli's offensive elbow, but he smiled at his short companion. "I suppose it worked out."

Tauriel laughed, hiding the stab of pain she felt when he mentioned Kíli. She knew Legolas meant well, but it still hurt to think of him.

"My father told me to give him a chance," Gimli admitted.

" _My_ father would disown me if he saw me now," Legolas joked. "Well. Maybe not. Dealings between our peoples have been better of late—though who would have thought!"

"Who indeed," Tauriel agreed. She turned to Gimli, a thought striking her. "I heard from Mithrandir that your company passed through the mines of Moria, though he did not elaborate. Your father told me at Rivendell that Lord Balin took a company of dwarves there to reclaim it. Did you by any chance meet him?"

Immediately, Gimli's face fell. "No," he said gravely. "We found his tomb."

Tauriel's eyes widened. "How did he die?" she asked softly. She remembered all those years ago, how Balin had been so kind to her in her loss. He had invited her to travel with his company to meet Dís, had been as much of a friend to her as he could, had appreciated her and comforted her in her grief.

"Orcs," Gimli said grimly. "But enough of his people were left to bury him. By the time we arrived, though...there was no one left."

Tauriel bowed her head. "That is truly sad. I mourn him alongside you. He was very kind to me many years ago."

Legolas looked at her curiously. He opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly there was a shout from the ramparts: "Orcs approaching!"

Tauriel gasped, turning toward the noise. "I am sorry," she said to Legolas and Gimli, "But I must go. Good luck in the battle to come—I hope we will speak again."

Legolas nodded. Tauriel smiled at him, then quickly raced away to her station on the ramparts. The battle was about to begin.


	16. Chapter 16

Here's chapter 16! Helm's Deep was sure a fun chapter to write.  
Featuring some dialogue from the Two Towers movie, and my aromantic Legolas headcanon.  
I hope you enjoy! This is probably the longest chapter in the whole fic, though since I'm not done that may change later.

* * *

 **Beneath the Stars  
** **SIXTEEN**

* * *

Tauriel stood on the ramparts, in rank with the rest of the Galadhrim warriors. She could see Haldir from her position, standing off far to the left. Rúmil was in the row ahead of her. Legolas and Gimli were at the front of the wall, three rows in front.

The orc army approached. She saw their lights and shadowy forms off in the distance, and heard their approaching footsteps like thunder. Real thunder echoed across the mountains, signaling the coming of a storm. Tonight was a poor night for a battle.

In front of her, Tauriel heard Gimli growl under his breath. "You could have picked a better spot," he complained to Legolas.

Tauriel smiled. She did not have a very good view of him three rows in front of her, but she imagined he could barely see over the wall. This place was not designed for dwarves.

Aragorn strode through the ranks of warriors. He stopped behind Legolas and Gimli.

"Well, lad, whatever luck you live by, let's hope it lasts the night," Gimli joked to him.

Lightning flashed, revealing the sea of approaching orcs. Tauriel shivered, feeling tension hang in the air like cobwebs in a dark cave.

"Your friends are with you, Aragorn," Legolas told him over the increasingly louder sound of the orcs. Tauriel could hear their shouts now, off in the distance.

"Let's hope they last the night," Gimli added. Aragorn nodded, then walked away.

Lightning flashed again. The sky held its breath, then released it with one quiet sigh. Rain flooded down from the heavens, dripping slowly at first, but then with increasing fervor until it was pouring.

The orcs marched forward. Tauriel heard Aragorn calling commands in Sindarin to the elven warriors.

"Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none!" he shouted.

There came a guttural cry from the orc leader. The army stopped, only a few hundred feet away from the walls. The two opposing forces simply stared at each other for awhile, waiting for the other to strike the first blow.

"What's happening out there?" Gimli demanded. Tauriel could hear him shuffling and jumping, straining to get a view over the rampart wall.

"Shall I describe it to you?" Legolas teased. "Or would you like me to get you a box?"

Tauriel raised her eyebrows, half-afraid Gimli would take offense. After a pause, however, the dwarf only laughed.

The orc leader cried out again, and the orc army began to roar and pound their spears into the ground. The Rohirrim warriors drew their bows, but Tauriel and the Galadhrim, having received no such order from either Aragorn or Haldir, did nothing.

Suddenly, an arrow flew through air, shot from this side of the wall. Tauriel held her breath as it soared through the rain and into the ranks of the orcs.

The arrow landed in an orc's chest. Tauriel heard its scream.

"Hold!" Aragorn shouted.

The orc fell forward, dead. The first casualty. Its companions growled, their complaints crescendoing into furious screams. Their leader, standing on a rock outcropping, raised its sword and shouted a command in Black Speech. The orcs surged forward.

"Prepare to fire!" Aragorn commanded.

Now the elves drew arrows to their bows. Tauriel's eyes pinpointed an orc in the crowd, aiming her arrow at it.

"Their armor is weak at the neck and beneath the arms," Legolas called out. Tauriel readjusted her aim.

"Release your arrows!" Aragorn called.

The elves let their arrows fly in almost perfect unison. Tauriel watched as her arrow soared through the air, hitting its mark dead-on. She smirked, nocking another arrow to her bow.

Around her victim, other orcs fell as well.

"Did they hit anything?" Gimli shouted over the fray.

A Rohirrim commander cried to his men, "Fire!" His call was echoed, and the fighting began in earnest. Tauriel shot down several more orcs with precision, her mind detached and cool.

"Fire!" Aragorn called again, but he did not need to say it. All the elves shot at their own targets, but for every orc they shot down, another took its place.

An orc approached with a crossbow, aiming up to the wall, finally close enough to fire back. It shot wildly up to the ramparts, but its arrow found its mark. An elf cried out, struck, and fell off the wall. Tauriel's heart skipped a beat, but she kept her focus on the battle.

The orcs stormed forward, pushing ladders against the wall. Aragorn screamed out, "Ladders!"

Orc warriors continued to shoot up to the wall, and more fell. Ladders were pushed up against the wall, and orcs began the climb to the top of the wall. Close combat was about to begin.

"Swords! Swords!" Aragorn yelled. Tauriel grimaced, putting away her bow and drawing her sword. She preferred long range combat, being an excellent archer. For close combat she had her knives, but she could tell that her sword would be most useful in this situation. These orcs had thick armor, and she didn't want them to get too close.

Orcs swarmed over the top of the wall, and the fighting began in earnest. Tauriel lost count of the orcs she killed, but she was for the most part unharmed. One particularly vicious beast scored a shallow cut on her left arm before she decapitated it, but it did not hurt enough for her to pay much notice to it.

She could hear Legolas and Gimli bantering over the fray, but she did not pay attention to what they were saying. She had her own problems to worry about, and though she was confident in her skill, the amount of orcs attacking the stronghold frightened her. Never, save in the Battle of the Five Armies, had she fought against so many, and the numbers of the defenders were few.

"Causeway!" Aragorn shouted. Tauriel heard the elf archers directing their fire in a different way, but she was not among them, still being caught up in the close fighting on the wall.

Tauriel killed orc after orc, dancing around her attackers and the corpses at her feet. She heard Aragorn continually shouting commands as he dashed around the battlefield. In a rare moment of calm, she stood panting for breath where the rampart walkway led up into the keep. Aragorn screamed now directly at Legolas: "Bring him down, Legolas! Kill him! _Kill him_!"

Tauriel could not see which orc he wished Legolas to kill, but the increasing anxiety in his voice told her that Legolas was missing his mark. Then the wall exploded.

Those who had been unfortunate to stand above where the explosion originated flew through the air. Debris soared everywhere, and Tauriel screamed, ducking into the the stairway opening to avoid being hit by a chunk of falling rock.

When the dust cleared, it became obvious that the orcs had taken their opportunity to invade the the keep and breach the deeping wall immediately. Tauriel swore loudly, rushing back into the fray. She leaped off the remnants of the wall down to the ground, ready to face the swarm of orcs.

She arrived just as Aragorn ordered a charge. She joined the elven warriors in their advance, meeting the orcs head on. Around her, elves were skewered on orc spears, but she kept her distance, rushing her enemies at their sides. They didn't see her coming, and she soon cut a bloody path through their ranks.

All too soon, Aragorn put an end to the fighting by the wall. "To the keep!" he commanded. "Pull back to the keep! Haldir, to the keep!"

Tauriel grimaced. She finished off the orc she was dealing with, then sprinted away from the fighting. She made eye contact with Rúmil, who smiled at her grimly, then jerked his head toward the keep. She nodded, running after him. She saw Orophin running to catch up to his brother and hoped that Haldir would lead the rest of the Galadhrim back to safety.

Someone grabbed her arm. Out of instinct, the tension of battle running through her blood, Tauriel whirled on them with her sword.

"Tauriel!" the person shouted. She relaxed, lowering her weapons as she recognized him.

"Legolas," she said. "I thought you were an orc!"

He snorted. "Well, it's not the first time. It hurts my feelings to know you find me that ugly."

She laughed. "What is it?"

"Come with me," he said, turning back towards the mass of approaching orcs. "Gimli does not wish to retreat."

She nodded, following him. Gimli still stood among his enemies, chopping them down methodically with his axe. Tauriel could not see either Aragorn or Haldir down on the ground, and elves fled the area all around them. Gimli stood his ground alone.

Tauriel drew her bow, shooting at the orcs from afar to give Gimli some aid. Legolas rushed in, dodging swings from the dwarf's axe and grabbing his arm.

"We must fall back!" Legolas shouted.

"I'll not surrender!" Gimli bellowed. "There's more guts in this dwarf than in you, Lord Pointy Ears!"

Legolas swore, tugging on Gimli's arm. Only Tauriel's arrows had stopped them from being killed while Gimli stubbornly stood his ground.

"Tauriel, come help me!" Legolas shouted. She dashed forward, putting away her bow and drawing her sword again. She cut through the swarm of orcs until she reached Gimli. She reached out and grabbed his other arm, helping Legolas pull him back to safety.

Gimli kicked and screamed as they dragged him away, too drunk on the heat of battle to think straight. "What are you doing? Arghh!" Tauriel would have laughed at his obstinace had not the situation been so dire; as it was, she exchanged a grin with Legolas. "What are you stopping for?" Gimli demanded.

They pulled him all the way back to the keep. By the time they reached the great stone fortress, Gimli had stopped fighting. A door stood open with elves streaming through it up into the keep, and other elves standing guard and shooting any orc that came close. Legolas stopped, waiting for an opening so the three of them could pass through the door.

"You can let go of me now," Gimli said stiffly. Tauriel rolled her eyes and Legolas sighed, but they released his arms. The dwarf turned around and glared at each of them. "That was a bit unnecessary, lad," he growled to Legolas.

"It was either that or leave you to be killed," Legolas said mildly.

"I'd rather not let another dwarf die on my watch," Tauriel said quietly.

Gimli looked at her oddly. Then understanding lit up his eyes. "You were at the Battle of the Five Armies, weren't you, lass?"

She nodded. He sighed explosively. "Well, I suppose I ought to thank you both. Though you must promise to never lay a finger on me again."

"Of course," Tauriel said with a straight face.

"We'll see," Legolas replied. Gimli glared at him, but his frown soon melted into a hearty laugh.

The doorway now stood clear for them. Legolas dashed through it and up the stairs, Gimli and Tauriel behind him. Elves amassed on the upper floors, preparing to defend the keep. They may have let the orcs breach the deeping wall, but they could still fight to retain the rest of the Hornburg.

Tauriel looked around for Haldir and Aragorn, but she could not find either of them. Rúmil and Orophin had taken charge in Haldir's absence, ordering their warriors around. Tauriel stuck close to Legolas and Gimli, who were now reviewing who was further ahead in kills.

At last, Aragorn ran up the stairs. Legolas and Gimli cried out in relief, rushing toward him in happiness.

"I knew you'd make it!" Gimli laughed. "I knew it!"

"We were a bit worried there," Legolas admitted. Tauriel hung behind them, not wishing to intrude.

Aragorn smiled tightly. "Yes, I survived, thank the Valar. But Haldir..." He trailed off. Tauriel's eyes widened. No...

"Haldir is dead," he said grimly.

Gimli gasped loudly. Legolas bowed his head. The news hit Tauriel like a blow, more hurtful than any orc's blade. Haldir was dead. What awful orc had killed him? Tauriel felt numb, the news washing over her like a cold wind. She could scarcely believe it. She had known him since her first visit to Lothlórien, and again the second time she arrived in his homeland. He had shown such kindness unto her, encouraging her to live again, and fight alongside her kin. This battle had reinvigorated her and shown her the real threats against the world she so dearly loved. He couldn't just be...gone. Dead.

Realistically, she knew his spirit was at rest in the Halls of Mandos, recovering until he was ready to be born again, but it jarred her to know she would never see him again in this life. She stared at Aragorn in near disbelief as he told the tale of how an orc had struck Haldir down while he led his warriors into retreat. Aragorn had rushed back up to the wreck of the rampart, but he had been too late to save him.

"May his soul find rest," Legolas said quietly. Tauriel bowed her head, still reeling from the shock. Even Gimli sniffed a little, saddened at the loss of their ally and friend.

"Aragorn!" a new voice called. Tauriel looked up to see Rúmil approaching. Another pang of grief hit her: Haldir's death had reft Rúmil and Orophin from their brother. The pain for them would be all too strong.

Rúmil approached them, his expression grim. Blood dripped from a long cut on his face. Orophin lagged behind him, his eyes bleak and exhausted.

"Where is Haldir?" Rúmil asked. "One of the king's captains is asking for him."

"Haldir died," Legolas said quietly.

Rúmil's mouth fell open, his eyes filling with grief. "No!" he whispered.

"Haldir..." Orophin said, his voice breaking. He bowed his head.

"I tried to save him, but I came too late," Aragorn said. "I am very sorry, Rúmil."

"What's going on?" Gimli demanded in Westron. Tauriel realized belatedly that Rúmil had addressed them in Sindarin and the conversation had continued as such.

"They are Haldir's brothers," she explained to him, switching over to the common tongue.

Gimli's expression softened. Aragorn quickly explained to them the situation. Rúmil agreed that though he and Orophin were heartbroken, the heat of battle was not the proper time to grieve.

"I do not speak the common tongue," he apologized. He glanced at Tauriel. "Tauriel, could you help me translate to the captain?"

"Of course," she agreed.

"I will come with you," Legolas said.

"I'm going down to the gate," Aragorn said, drawing his sword. "Gimli, will you come with me?" he asked in Westron.

"Of course, lad," the dwarf said. "Let's avenge the Captain's death."

The two of them raced away. Rúmil turned and embraced Orophin, the two brothers clinging to each other in their grief. Tauriel and Legolas stood aside, not wishing to intrude. At last, they broke apart. Rúmil wiped a tear from his eye, then nodded to Tauriel. "The king's captain awaits us," he said.

When they found the king's captain, Tauriel translated for Rúmil, and it was agreed that he would take charge of the remainder of the Galadhrim. Rúmil took a section of elves to the upper half of the keep, reinforcing the Rohirrim from above. Tauriel and Legolas went above the gate, looking to watch over Aragorn and Gimli.

When they arrived, Legolas only laughed. Gimli flew through the air down below, jumping onto the orcs outside the gate from an unseen ledge. He caused quite a dent in the forces of the besieging orcs, and Aragorn soon joined him, giving the Rohirrim on the other side of the gate time to barricade the door.

"That was some jump," Legolas said admiringly.

"Yes," Tauriel agreed. "I wonder how such a small dwarf could jump so far."

"There's more to him than meets the eye," Legolas said, a note of pride tinging his voice. Tauriel looked at him sidelong, nocking an arrow to her bow. She shot down into the mass of orcs, careful to avoid Aragorn and Gimli.

"You're very fond of him, aren't you?" she said.

"Well, yes," he admitted. "He's a dear friend, after all this time. I would not say such to his face, of course, for we still have a playful rivalry, but I value his companionship very much."

Tauriel smiled at him. He was clearly very enamoured with Gimli. "This is quite a change from when you scoffed my affection for Kíli," she teased.

Legolas turned pink. He quickly fired a few arrows into the throng of orcs to distract himself. "No, no, it's not like that," he stammered. "I don't...never like that, not for you like my father thought, not for Gimli like you seem to think." He seemed very uncomfortable with the idea.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "I suppose I shouldn't have—"

"Well, it's a reasonable thought," Legolas grumbled, venting his frustration on the orcs below. His arrows brought down several more orcs, their corpses falling off the side of the causeway. Aragorn and Gimli fought bravely, but Tauriel noticed with some concern that there were just too many orcs. They could not hold back Saruman's forces forever.

The orcs shot hooks over the battlements. From the hooks, ladders bristling full of orcs swung up to the wall, locking onto the wall with steel grips. Tauriel swore under her breath.

Legolas shot at a second ladder, breaking away one of the ropes. Now barely connected to the wall, the ladder and the orcs on it fell screaming back into the orc ranks.

"We ought to haul them up soon," she shouted to Legolas. Below, Aragorn and Gimli struggled to hold their own against the onslaught of orcs..

"Go, grab a rope," he agreed. She dashed away, calling out for a rope. A Rohirrim warrior threw one at her, and she thanked him quickly, rushing back to Legolas. She threw the rope at him, and he flung it down.

"Aragorn!" he cried out. He glanced back to Tauriel. "Help me haul them up!"

She nodded and grabbed the rope behind him. Suddenly she felt a great weight beneath her hands, and she pulled and pulled. Behind her, a few Rohirrim warriors noticed their struggle and rushed to their aid.

"I don't—like Gimli, or you or—anyone in that fashion," Legolas admitted, panting between words. Tauriel blinked. What was he talking about?—oh, yes, their earlier conversation about Gimli.

"Is this—the best time—to have this conversation?" she shouted at him.

He laughed mirthlessly. "Probably not! But I—wanted to clear up—a few misconceptions!"

"Alright!" she agreed. "I'm sure you can—explain later!"

"It's just that—" He didn't finish. He grunted, pulling on the rope even harder. Soon Aragorn's head appeared at the top of the wall. Legolas let go of the rope, pulling his friend over the wall. Gimli swore loudly beneath Aragorn, and both the elf and the human reached to help haul Gimli up to safety.

Tauriel was relieved to let go of the rope. Her hands hurt from gripping it so long, but she could not give them a rest.

Even more ladders carrying orcs were launched up to the wall, but Legolas could not take down all of them. Tauriel was the only other elven archer nearby, and they and the Rohirrim archers tried their best to fell as many ladders as they could while Aragorn, Gimli, and the other warriors fought the orcs who made it over the wall with their swords. There were just too many of them—the keep would soon be overrun.

A cry came from one of the Rohirrim captains: "Fall back! Fall back!"

"They've broken through!" the king shouted from down below. "The castle is breached! Retreat!"

"Fall back!"

"Retreat!"

Tauriel reluctantly turned, fleeing to the safety of the keep. She hated surrendering the battlements, but there was nothing more that could be done.

"Hurry! Inside! Get them inside!" Aragorn commanded.

Tauriel rushed inside, panting for breath. She was now separated from both Legolas and the Galadhrim. The Rohirrim warriors fled inside, barricading the door as soon as everyone was safe. They could hold the halls of the keep for a while, at least until dawn.

Tauriel grimaced, leaving the entrance of the keep to find Rúmil. He could tell her where she would be most helpful.

She found him in the halls, bleakly ordering his warriors around. Orophin was nowhere to be seen. Tauriel hoped he was still alive.

"Rúmil," she called. He looked at her and smiled, looking every inch exhausted.

"I'm glad to see you alive," he said. She could see grief for his brother hiding behind his eyes, fresh and horrible.

"Where's Orophin?" she asked.

"Guarding the entrance to the caves where the women and children are hiding," he said. "I doubt the orcs will break through there until there is no hope left. He needs the rest such a post will allow him."

"So do you," Tauriel pointed out.

Rúmil shook his head. "No. Haldir would have led his warriors into death—he _did_. I am in charge now. I must do the same."

Tauriel could see there was no convincing him. "Do you have any place to put me?" she asked. "They don't need me up there anymore."

Rúmil frowned. He looked at her for a few moments, then said thoughtfully, "There is a tower in the back of the keep, facing east. In it is the horn of one of the ancient lords of this land, the Helm Hammerhand the fortress was named after. It is also an excellent watchtower overlooking the top of the valley."

"Yes," she said.

"Go there. It is up that way." He pointed to the left. "Take the third left, then the second right. That hall will lead to the tower. Watch for any approaching warriors, whether they be friend or foe."

"Shall I shoot at the orcs from above?" she asked. "I think I could lay a few to rest."

To her surprise, Rúmil shook his head. "No. I want you to lay low. Don't let the orcs know you're there."

"Alright," Tauriel said. She touched his arm lightly. "Stay strong, Rúmil."

"Stay strong," he whispered, closing his eyes. She wasn't sure if he was wishing her luck in return or repeating it to convince himself that he could.

Tauriel left, following Rúmil's instructions. She found the horn, and peeked over the wall surrounding it. It was still dark and raining, though the downpour had let up into a drizzle. Dawn was still several hours away.

The battle had died down and turned into a siege. Orcs pounded methodically on the door to the keep, but Tauriel had seen the Rohirrim barricading it and knew it would not break anytime soon.

The battlefield was desolate. Rain and mud covered the corpses of the elves, men, and orcs littered across the ground. It was a depressing sight. Orcs still milled around on the ground, but the majority of Saruman's forces focused their efforts on claiming the keep.

Tauriel covered her head with navy blue Galadhrim cloak and hunkered down in the scant shelter the horn provided. She would check periodically for approachers, but she needed to rest. She would not sleep, but she could rest her body for a while.

There was a long wait until dawn.

* * *

The sky slowly turned from black to grey with the coming of the sun. No friend or foe had approached from the valley. Several times during the night, the orcs had almost broken through into the halls of the keep, but each time, the king had sent some of his men out to beat them back temporarily.

Tauriel watched this all, unable to help. The battle fervor had left her, and she was now simply exhausted. She knew grief and emotion would overcome her late, but for now, it took all of her energy and focus just to stay awake.

Behind her, she heard thumping footsteps. Worried that somehow an orc had broken in, Tauriel nocked an arrow to her bow and aimed for the entrance to the tower.

But when the owner of the footsteps appeared, she relaxed. It was Gimli. She put her bow away and greeted him.

"Gimli!" she called out.

To her surprise, he was grinning. He raced up to her with a new light in his eyes.

"Tauriel, lass!" he shouted.

"What's going on?" she asked. "Do Legolas or Rúmil want me back in the keep?"

"No," he said. "They're riding out with the dawn—Legolas, the new elf captain, Aragorn, Théoden and some of his men. I'm no good on a horse, so they sent me to blow the horn. One final stand, one last ride for the Rohirrim!"

Tauriel smiled. One last ride. If they were to surrender the keep, it would not be willingly. "Go," she said. "Blow the horn."

Gimli laughed heartily, quickly embracing her before rushing toward the horn. Tauriel, shocked, stood and watched him blow the horn. She was very strongly reminded of his father. He was Glóin's son, through and through.

The sound of the horn rang through the valley, filling Tauriel with new vigor. She raced to the tower wall, looking to the valley's rim with a wild hope.

She thought it was a trick of the light a first, but a second look confirmed the reality of her vision. On the valley rise were horses beyond counting, each with a rider full of energy. Fresh warriors! She could barely believe it!

At their head was Mithrandir! Tauriel cheered in her joy as they spilled down into the valley, destroying all orcs in their path. From the keep rushed the remaining defenders, crushing the orcs between them.

Gimli blew the horn again, then rushed up to join her in celebration. Tauriel drew her bow and emptied her quiver of its remaining arrows, shooting down into the mass of panicked orcs.

Tauriel and Gimli left the tower soon after to aid in the victory of the Rohirrim. In only an hour, all the orcs had either fled or been slaughtered. Helm's Deep had been saved.

Tauriel grinned in the morning sunlight, cleaning her blades of orcish blood. Somehow they had been victorious, though it had been a long night and she was utterly exhausted. She had fulfilled her promise to Haldir, and though he had not survived the battle, she had. She would live on to fight another day—and that day would be soon in coming. The free peoples of Middle-earth would not have a long respite. Sauron and Saruman still conspired against all lands, including the Greenwood. It was finally time for Tauriel to go home.


	17. Chapter 17

**Beneath the Stars  
** **SEVENTEEN**

* * *

After the battle was over, Tauriel first found Rúmil and Orophin. Thankfully, they were both still alive, though certainly worse for wear. Orophin sported a broken arm, and Rúmil looked so exhausted that Tauriel feared he might fall over in a faint if he was given any more responsibilities.

Tauriel herself was also tired. Her injuries, however, were minor, and she felt she was better off than either of Haldir's brothers.

"Tauriel," Orophin said as she came up to them. His eyes were hollow and unhappy, despite the victory. "At least you survived."

"Yes," she agreed. "Rúmil, Orophin...you two look terrible. I imagine you feel worse. Have you gotten your injuries checked? It looks like your arm is broken, Orophin."

Rúmil only grunted. Orophin flashed him a worried glance, then sighed, cradling his broken arm. "No," he admitted. "There are others worse off than us."

Tauriel shook her head. "You two are in charge now. You need to be healed just as much as anyone else. You can't help your people if you topple over dead from infection."

"What people?" Rúmil said bleakly. "A third of our forces were killed, Tauriel. A _third_. And Haldir—" His voice broke. "Haldir died. I couldn't grieve properly in the midst of battle, but now..."

Orophin, beside him, began to cry. Tauriel felt helpless in comforting them. She knew this was hard to take. Haldir's absence cut her like a knife, but she could only imagine the pain his brothers felt.

"I know," she said softly. "It hurts. It always will. He's gone, and you wish he was still here. We all do. But you've got to keep going." She swallowed, tears budding in her eyes. She spoke not only to them, but to herself. Haldir had been a good person. He'd led his people into a hopeless battle, and though he had not made it out, they had won. And her mind still stretched back to a time that seemed ages away now, when she had first lost Kíli. Then, it had seemed that the pain would never lessen, that she would never be at peace. She still hurt, all these years later. But her grief had not consumed her. She had gone on, pressed forward, as she and the brothers must do now.

"You didn't deserve this," she continued, "and neither did Haldir, or the rest of your fallen warriors. But you still have two thirds of your warriors to lead, whether you take them back home or you keep pressing forward alongside the Rohirrim. Get some help. Orophin, you need a healer for that arm, and Rúmil, you need to rest."

Rúmil looked at her for a long moment. Then he sighed, turning to Orophin.

"Let's go," he said, wrapping an arm around his brother. "You're right, Tauriel. Thank you."

They left, and Tauriel suddenly felt exhausted. She didn't need a healer—at least, she could wait for one. She found a blanket and an empty patch of ground, then curled up and went to sleep. Pain would hit her when she woke, but for now, she needed to rest.

* * *

When Tauriel woke, she was stiff and aching. She groaned as she sat up, stretching. Every muscle was sore and screaming in protest as she got up. The chaos around her had calmed down some. People, both Rohirrim and Galadhrim alike, had settled down and begun to repair the damages done by the orcs. It was night now. A few stars shone through a thin cloud layer, illuminating the darkness.

Tauriel found an unoccupied healer, who tended to her wounds. Her muscles were still stiff, though feeling much better. She got up and walked around the Keep to loosen them up some.

She found Haldir's brothers together. Rúmil was asleep in a healer's tent, Orophin by his side. His broken arm had been bandaged, and he was wore fresh clothes. Tauriel herself felt filthy. She ought to change into new garments, herself.

"Thank you for helping us this morning," Orophin said as she approached. "You were right, seeing a healer helped. I got the word out to the remaining Galadhrim. We're marching onward under King Théoden's command, as long as the Rohirrim still need us." He paused. "Rúmil would ask you himself were he not sleeping, but...are you coming with us? We know your agreement with Haldir wasn't that you would stay with us forever."

Tauriel frowned. "Do you need me?" she asked. "I am just an outsider. I know you and Rúmil and Haldir better than I did anyone else. I would like to help, but this battle is won. There are others that will be fought elsewhere, including in the Greenwood. I need to go back."

Orophin nodded. Rúmil stirred in his sleep, then went still again.

"We don't _need_ you," Orophin said quietly. "But Rúmil and I... Haldir was always the captain, not us. And we can't speak Westron like he could. You were Captain back in the Greenwood, and you can help us communicate." He looked at her hopefully. "If you could stay, at least for a couple of days, that would help us. Just so long as it takes for us to feel better about being in charge."

Tauriel's heart softened. "Of course," she agreed. "I'll help you, for a few days."

Orophin clasped her hand. "Thank you," he told her gratefully. "It truly helps."

She nodded. "You're welcome." She looked around. "Have you seen Legolas anywhere? I want to talk to him."

Orophin frowned. "I think he was helping clear the orc bodies off the Keep. You can check over there."

"Thank you," she said. She left to look for Legolas. She found him, Gimli, and Aragorn hauling orc bodies into a big pile.

"We're going to burn them," Gimli explained as she approached. "A big orc bonfire! That'll show them." He grinned.

"Good," she agreed. "It's what they deserve." She spat on an orc corpse to show her contempt. She hoped it was the one who had killed Haldir, though she knew it was unlikely.

Tauriel caught Legolas's eye. "Can I talk with you?" she asked. "In private?"

He nodded. He dropped the orc corpse he was carrying, then followed her out of anyone else's earshot.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I thought about what you said in Rivendell," Tauriel began. "I've decided. I'm going back to the Greenwood."

Legolas broke into a smile. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Everyone will be delighted to have you back—except perhaps my father. Don't worry, I'll put in a word for you. He can't stay angry forever."

"I wouldn't put it past him," she said drily. "But no. Thank you for the offer, but I'm going back on my own terms. As soon as Rúmil and Orophin are comfortable and in control of the remainder of the Galadhrim, I'm going back home." _Home_. She hadn't said that word in a long time. But the Greenwood _was_ her home, even after all these years. She had been delayed long enough: it was time for her to return—soon. Very soon.

Legolas's eyes widened. "Oh!" he said. "Well, I wish you luck. We will always need help guarding our borders, especially now during a time of war."

"Yes," she agreed. She looked at Legolas fondly. "Thank you for being my friend."

He smiled. "Of course. And thank you for being mine."

"I would not wish it any other way," Tauriel said. "Even after all this time."

"I am glad," Legolas said, "for friends are very important to me." He paused, glancing away briefly. "Do you remember our conversation up on the Keep, when we were pulling Aragorn and Gimli back up?"

Tauriel frowned. "Yes," she said. "You were telling me about how you were not romantically interested in Gimli, or me, or anyone else."

"Yes," Legolas agreed. "But we were interrupted. I mean, what I was trying to say was just that...my whole life, my father, and everyone else, it seemed, expected me to fall in love and settle down." He shook his head. "But it never happened. I'm nearly three thousand years old, much older than you are, and I've never been in love."

Tauriel nodded. "Yes. I always thought so. Your father seemed to believe differently, though, so I was never sure."

He smiled half-heartedly. "We have talked about this since you left. He understands now. But yes, I don't fall in love."

"I'm glad you know yourself that well," Tauriel told him. She smiled, patting him on the arm. "And I'm glad to be your friend."

"Thank you," Legolas said. He smiled, for real this time. "I have so many good friends, romance is simply unnecessary."

Tauriel laughed. "Good! Romance isn't always worth it." She sighed, thinking of Kíli. If she hadn't fallen in love with him, life would have been so different. She didn't regret it, but Legolas was happy with his life, and that was good.

"Do you really think your father will forgive me?" she asked.

Legolas shrugged. "Yes. It will not be easy, but he will. He wants you to come back, Tauriel. You were an excellent guard captain, and you opened his eyes to the outside world. He has changed. You may not believe it, but he has."

"I will have to see for myself," she said. She sighed. "It is hard to believe."

"He will take you back," Legolas said.

Tauriel raised an eyebrow. If Thranduil truly had changed, he would be a different person than the one she had known. But perhaps Legolas was right. "We will see," she said.

* * *

 **Author's note:** I've moved all of my fanfiction to Archive Of Our Own, including this fic. If you really want to know what happens next, feel free to check out the rest there! But for now I'm done with this website, which means no more updates here.


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